New Home (I)
by Tiger DeRanged
Summary: First of the New Adventures Trilogy Revised. If you wish to know the summary then please refer to the original series that is still posted on my profile. This is a Harry/Aragorn pairing along with some other SLASH pairings. If you are against homosexual relations of any kind then kindly find another fic and leave mine be. I hope this revision meets your tastes. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_**DeRanged here! I realize you guys are still waiting on the sequel to my version of the "The Mummy" with the Avengers as the characters, but I currently have nothing to play the second movie on so I can't really pull from it and type like I normally would. Until such a time that I can get my stinkin' DVD player to work, I'll be revising and editing my original trilogy that I started on with. I hope y' all don't mind too much. I was re-reading it and realized just how childish my writing was back then compared to now so I started editing and re-writing to cover obvious plot-holes and to fix the mistakes I made the first time around.**_

 _ **For those who are coming back, I hope this is just as good – if not better – than the former and if you are only now reading it then I hope you enjoy! Thank you**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own either Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings otherwise I'd be stinkin' rich and probably not writing fanfiction due to the fact that all of my characters would be gay from the beginning ;D**_

* * *

 **Chapter One: A New Home**

Fire ate at everything it could get to as bodies littered the ruins of what had once been a great castle and school known as Hogwarts. Mangled and bleeding, young and old – it didn't matter, they lay dead on what had once been school grounds full of chattering and laughing children. All dead, all gone, all but one. A man still drew breath and sat hunched over a dead body, his shoulders shaking from suppressed sobs as he caressed the face of a bushy haired woman – her eyes were open and glassy and filled with love and determination. The man's messy black hair fluttered in the small breeze and tears filmed emerald green eyes. His clothes were torn and crusted with dried blood – some his own and some his enemies. This mysterious man was none other than Harry Potter, the esteemed Boy-Who-Lived.

Slowly tears stopped and the last flame of life leaked from his expressive eyes leaving behind a dulled, soulless pea green orbs. He brushed his hands over his best friend's eyes and shutting them gently, whispered a soft, "Have fun up there with the others 'Mione."

He settled her gently on the war scorched lawn of what once had been his home before standing and searching over the battleground for any who might still be alive – friend or foe. What had once been jeans were torn in every imaginable place and were near falling off and his shirt had long fallen off his torso in tatters. Scars – old and new – littered his chest, arms, and back while his feet were bare and bleeding. Eyes widened in shock when he saw movement from one of the bodies nearby and he was soon jumping over the dead bodies that lay in his way, not even daring to glance down to see the accusing faces of his loved ones.

When he reached the body, he saw they were laying face down with their face buried in the dirt leaving little to identify the body. What Harry could see was sandy brown hair with streaks of gray. Heart beating in his throat, Harry quickly turned the body to see Remus Lupin – the only remaining link to his parents and the last bit of family he had left – with a deep slash across his stomach.

The elder's eyes fluttered open to show weary gold that lit up the moment they set blurrily on Harry's face, "You're alive!" he said, his voice filled with love and happiness, "Does that mean -?" he stopped not daring to hope.

"He's gone Remy. We're finally free, but at great cost," Harry said, looking brokenly around the battlefield.

Remus also glanced around as best he could from his position and his eyes filled with tears that slowly overflowed and fell down his cheeks. Harry gently lifted him softly so the man was braced against his chest and placed a gentle hand over Remus's bleeding wound – he would not lose the only person he had left. The elder man gave a gasp as warmth spread through him from his stomach; where once there was pain there was nothing more than warmth and comfort.

Slowly the warmth leaked away until it was completely gone, this is when he looked down to see his stomach healed completely. Quickly, he forced his tired limbs to move so that he could turn in his honorary godson's arms to wrap his own arms around the boy who had quickly become a man before his eyes. Harry needed as much comfort, if not more than, he did.

They took their time in pulling back, but when they did they were inspecting each other to see if they were truly okay. Remus's khaki pants were now torn at the knee and his shirt was long gone, much like Harry's, and his robes had been abandoned near the beginning to offer larger range of movement. They helped each other stand before both set about finding something to cover themselves with, extracting the few remaining intact robes from the dead bodies around them, apologizing profusely as they did so. They quickly donned them, shrinking them down to fit them better with a bit of wandless magic, before meeting up with each other once again.

Harry looked around at the strewn bodies as Remus stood silently beside him, watching him closely. Then Harry spoke up, "We'll bury our allies and burn our enemies," he said, rolling up the sleeves of his robe and pulling his wand from its invisible holster with a deft flick of his wrist.

Remus quickly copied the younger man's movements, but as they both raised their wands to get started sorting the bodies a bright light nearly blinded them. When it disappeared and they could see again, the two men found an unearthly woman standing before them – or rather floating before them – as her bare feet didn't touch the bloodied ground. Her silver hair fell down her back in lush waves, filled with braids and flowers revealing pointed ears resting beneath. Her eyes were iridescent and seemed unwilling to settle on a color while her face was unblemished, pale, and glowing like the moon. A Greek toga was wrapped lovingly around her body and flowed like a gurgling creek over her lush curves.

The two found themselves falling into bows subconsciously – it felt like the right thing to do. They heard a tinkling laugh over their heads from the woman, "You have no need to bow to me, my warriors. You have suffered much, and it is I who should be bowing to you," she said, her voice clear and soothing like a song.

They quickly straightened and their faces were nearly identical in their surprise and silent questions, "I see you have much to ask," she said, "why don't we sit?" the being asked, gesturing regally towards one of the larger chunks of rubble that jutted out of the ground – these pieces of worn stone were all that remained of Hogwarts and her history.

Exchanging weary glances, the two men stored their wands and made their way to the indicated stone, clambering up until they found a comfortable position to sit in before turning to stare at the being expectantly. She sighed, folding her legs beneath her so that she floated on the wind in a sitting position, and began, "I am Fate," she said, quickly adding, "not to be confused with my sister: Destiny," before continuing with what she had to say, "Both of you have faced many obstacles, many deaths, so I took it upon myself to give you a second chance at another life," she said, smiling brightly at them.

"So we would – what? Be reborn and have to live our lives all over again?" Harry asked, raising a disbelieving brow.

Fate raised a hand and wobbled it to and fro, "Partly," she said, "You will keep your memories, keep your bodies, but you will be in another world, in another life," she said, before grinning brightly, "I'll also be curing Mr. Lupin here of his lycanthropy," she snapped her fingers, "He's now merely an Animagus, though his form is restricted to that of a wolf," her voice was coated in giddiness.

The two turned to each other in disbelief and amazement – this couldn't be possible, they had to be dreaming.

"Why do mortals always think this is a dream?" Fate asked, voice coated in exasperation.

"Begging your pardon madam, but you have to admit that it's honestly a bit unbelievable," Remus said, placing a calming hand on Harry's thigh to help the younger man hold his tongue.

"Perhaps you're right," she said, before clapping her hands together enthusiastically twice, "Anyway, back to the present!"

Both men sent her a look that stated they were questioning her sanity – and their own, for that matter – but soon forgot this when they began to float off the boulder and into the air. They grabbed each other's arms on the off chance they would drift apart if they did not and fell unconscious, convulsing as if placed beneath the Cruciatus – they never let go of each other. Then, with a flash of red, the two men disappeared with a loud 'POP' that resounded through the clearing Hogwarts once stood and across the deforested Forbidden Forest.

* * *

The two men woke with pounding headaches in the middle of what appeared to be a lush clearing in a forest beneath the full moon. A fire crackled to their left side and was the only source of warmth in the strange, chilly night. Harry was the first to recover and sit up, glancing quickly at his surroundings to gain his bearings. All he could see was the dark shadows of the trees surrounding them and Remus, nothing else. Stretching his sense to his surroundings to ensure their continued safety, Harry began to check Remus over quietly in hopes the man hadn't gained any new wounds on their odd journey.

He was shocked to find the man was better than he had ever been: his once gray-streaked hair was now a deep honey that shined beneath the flickering firelight and his blurry golden brown orbs held a ring of silver around the pupil. What was even more surprising for Harry was the large change in the older man's body build – it was as if the man had been de-aged because the once worn and lined skin was now smooth, flawless, and bronzed while sagging muscles were once again hard as steel and lean.

As Remus finally sat up, eyes clearer now, he stared at Harry for a long time making the younger man uncomfortable, "What?" he asked.

"Harry, where are your glasses?" Remus asked in return, eyes wide.

Harry's hands flew to his face only for his own eyes to widen and for him to flick his wand into his hand and conjure a mirror. He stared at his reflection in shock; his glasses were gone and it made his deep emerald orbs glimmer magically, but that wasn't the only change to his appearance. His once messy locks now fell down his back in loose curls with streaks of auburn and his once deathly pale skin was now olive toned.

"I thought she said we would keep our bodies," Harry said, using his fingers to nudge his cheeks, not fully believing he was awake.

Before Remus could respond there was a rustling from behind the trees to their right; they were on their feet instantly with their wands pointed to the sound and glowing dangerously. They weren't prepared for an old man in gray robes to hobble out using a gnarled staff as support, his silver beard was long enough to tuck into his belt and his hair fell down his back at nearly the same length.

They met shocked cyan blue orbs and Harry couldn't help what he blurted next, "Dumbledore?"

A raspy, kind voice spoke up, "I'm afraid you may have me confused with someone else, young man," he said, giving a slight smile that caused his eyes to twinkle reminding Harry and Remus so much of the former Headmaster they had both loved dearly, "My name is Gandalf," this is when he noticed their glowing wands causing his bushy brows to raise, "You are Istari?" he asked, obviously in shock.

"What?" Remus asked, glancing between the Dumbledore-look-alike and their wands.

Harry chimed in, "What is an Istari?" he asked.

Gandalf gestured towards their wands, "An Istari can use Magic by blessing of the Valar," he said, "I myself am one of eight here in Middle Earth."

Remus and Harry exchanged glances, "Do you mean wizards?" Remus asked, but Harry shook his head, "Middle Earth?" he asked.

Gandalf looked between the two men, more precisely at their strange clothing before gesturing back towards the fire, "Perhaps we should sit and exchange our tales," he said.

The two men quickly settled back down to where they had awoken only closer together, one constantly checking their surroundings at all times. Gandalf observed this, but didn't comment as he too settled beside the fire with a large boulder at his back.

The three Men sat in silence for a few moments before Harry broke it, "So who starts this little campfire story time?" he asked, seemingly unconcerned.

Gandalf was quite amused with the young Men before him, both held a flawless façades of calm and cool and relaxed. Pulling out his pipe and filling it with the last remains of his Longbottom leaf, he lit his finger to light his pipe only to watch in surprise as a foreign magic smothered his own and put out the flame. Eyes shooting up he met twinkling emeralds that met his own directly without fear.

"A man of your age shouldn't risk the disease that comes with smoking so late in life," Harry said, tone teasing causing Gandalf to splutter slightly in shock at the Man's gall before the old Istari began to laugh.

"That should be enough to prove that you are not from Middle Earth," Gandalf said, chuckling, "May I get the names of my story tellers?" he asked.

Harry looked towards Remus, silently questioning who would lead tonight and Remus merely nodded to the younger man before Harry turned to Gandalf and began to speak, "I'm Harry Potter-Black and this is my godfather and honorary Uncle, Remus Lupin and you're correct: we aren't from Middle Earth. We come from a world where magical beings – whom we call wizards – are many and magical creatures are few and seen as lesser. Prejudice runs high in our world and anyone seen as inferior is sneered at," Harry said, continuing to explain everything he could think of.

He told Gandalf about the Founders, about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, about Voldemort's first rise to power, about his parents' murders and Voldemort's supposed demise, about his first four years, about Voldemort's return, about the War against the Darkness, and about Fate's visit in the end. Gandalf listened closely throughout and was amazed at what these Men had been through and felt sympathy that they had been placed in a world that was in a state of upheaval similar to their own on the precipice of war.

Harry stared silently into the fire now, watching the flames dance numbly as he relived everything in his head that he had told this stranger. Remus was no better, but he stared up at the starless sky at the ironically full moon.

Gandalf interrupted the endless loop and began the history of Middle Earth. The beginning, the creation of each being that lived across the lands, the divisions of each land – the Shire, Gondor, Rohan, etc. – the story of the rings, Sauron and the One Ring, Isildur and his betrayal, the attempts to regain Erabor, and his suspicions that Sauron's return. He finished with how he had discovered Harry and Remus's unconscious forms on his journey to the Shire to visit an old friend.

They all sit in silence – Gandalf to allow the two Men before him to absorb everything and Harry and Remus to memorize all that they had learned about their new home. Finally, it was Remus who broke the silence, "So what now?" he asked, wrapping a comforting arm around his adoptive nephew.

Gandalf leaned forward to stoke the fire while he spoke, "There are many options before you: you can travel with me to the Shire, you may go on your own adventure, or I can point you in a direction," the elderly man said.

Remus turned to Harry only to see the young man had fallen asleep causing the older man to smile fondly at the sight. Turning back towards Gandalf, Remus spoke in a low whisper, "Perhaps we can get back to that decision in the morning when my nephew and I aren't quite as exhausted?" the former werewolf asked.

Gandalf smiled kindly across the lower fire, "Of course," he said, "get some rest. You will be safe here," he gestured towards the clearing, "We are so close to the Shire and protected by Rangers."

Remus nodded politely, unwilling to tell the Istari that he and Harry had never fully fallen into a complete sleep since before Harry's fourth year. He quickly conjured a sleeping roll for himself and his young cub before gently moving the younger man onto it. From there he moved his roll beside the young man's before laying down himself, wand in his hand out of caution and habit.

* * *

When Harry woke next, he discovered he was lying on a quite comfortable bed and when he opened his eyes he found he was in a strange room with a small, round window on the wall at his feet. Grumbling to himself about waking up in weird places every time he fell asleep, Harry pushed himself into a sitting position only for his head and wand to snap towards the doorway where a small creature walked in and jolted in surprise at seeing him awake.

The creature, for it wasn't a Man, was as tall as a goblin with graying curls revealing slightly tipped ears while his feet were large, bare, and covered in fur on the top – because there was too much to merely be hair – and was just as curly as the hair atop the creature's head.

"Ah, I see you're awake," he said, over his surprise and walking towards Harry without fear of the Man's glowing wand, "Gave your Uncle quite a scare when you didn't wake up, lad," he said, sitting down in a tiny chair beside the bed.

"My Uncle?" Harry asked, his head felt muddled and his tongue felt as if it were made of cotton. The image of Vernon flashed in his mind making him cringe and fight back a gag; thankfully the stranger spoke up and distracted him.

"Aye, lad," the man said, looking at Harry in obvious worry, "Remus? Perhaps you hit your head recently?" he began muttering to himself all the possibilities of what could be wrong with Harry.

Harry sat in the bed staring down at the creature that was steadily muttering worriedly about his health and couldn't help the laughter that bubbled forth as he remembered everything that happened the night before – was it the night before? How long had he been asleep that it had scared Remus? This stopped his laughter and he turned a curious gaze towards the man – a Hobbit he recalled from Gandalf's history lesson – who was staring at him with a relieved grin on his own slightly aged face.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name Mr. -?" Harry began, moving himself into a more comfortable position back against the pillows he had been sleeping on.

"Oh! Baggins, lad, Bilbo Baggins," here the Hobbit bowed cheerily, "But you can just call me Bilbo, no need for formalities here in Bag End," he said.

"Right," Harry said, rolling the syllables slowly across his tongue before getting back on point, "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

Bilbo sat back into his chair and pulled a wet rag from the folds of the blankets that Harry had somehow missed falling when he sat up, "Three weeks, my boy," he said in a grave tone, "Like I said, gave your Uncle quite a scare especially when you gained a fever within the first night," the elder Hobbit shook his head, "Kept young Frodo and I on our toes for a fortnight until your fever finally broke, thank Yvanna," Harry just sat listening to the Hobbit ramble, getting everything he wanted to know and yet nothing at the same time.

Where was Remus? Where was Gandalf? Where were they? Why had they come to this odd Hobbit's home? And who was this "young Frodo"? Harry got his question answered only to have more pop into his head.

As if sensing his growing distress, Remus came stumbling into the room looking tired with large, dark bags beneath his eyes and carrying a bowl of what Harry assumed was fresh water. When the man's blurry eyes landed on Harry's conscious form, the bowl tumbled from his hands and with a cry of relief the man lunged towards Harry and the younger man soon found himself with a lap full of a sobbing former werewolf.

"Thank Merlin," Remus managed between sobs, "You scared the shit out of me, cub," he said, pulling back to smack the younger man upside the head before pulling him in close again in a desperate hold, "No more going months without sleep, do you hear me?"

Harry stared incredulously over the man's shoulder to see a smirking Gandalf with a giggling Hobbit child at his feet and a grinning Bilbo kneeling to clean the water that was steadily soaking the wooden floor of the room, "Okay?" Harry's response came out more as a question than an actual response.

This brought Remus back to the present and the Man pulled back sheepishly only to jump to his feet and wave his wand intricately making the water return to the repaired water bowl before Bilbo's amazed eyes.

"You can do magic!" a young voice said, causing all eyes to turn to the young Hobbit beside Gandalf who was staring down at the lad with a fond smile.

This must be "young Frodo" Harry thought to himself before he smiled kindly towards the Hobbit, "I take it Gandalf didn't tell you our story while Remus here acted like a mother hen?" he asked, turning an exasperated smile towards the blushing Man now standing at the foot of his bed.

"It wasn't my story to tell," Gandalf said, moving to stand inside the room rather than in the doorway, "And may I say it's wonderful to see you well again, Harry?"

Harry tilted his head in confusion but nodded politely, slightly surprised at the lack of meddling on the part of this Dumbledore-look-alike. Bilbo's voice interrupted Harry's musings and drew everyone's attention to the small being who took charge so expertly.

"Alright, everyone out! We are going to leave young –Harry, was it? – to get some uninterrupted sleep and then we'll make decisions tomorrow," he said, clapping his hands and shooing everyone but Remus out.

Harry was slightly amused to see Frodo peek back at him with a curious glint in his eyes; he wouldn't be surprised if he had a little visitor in the dead of night.

He turned to Remus expectantly who only shook his head and pushed Harry gently back so the younger Man lay reclined on the bed, pulling the quilt back up to Harry's chin, "Get rest cub, Bilbo's right. You need one night of restful sleep not interrupted by fevered nightmares," Remus said in a low tone, before settling comfortably in a corner where a pallet piled with blankets rested Harry had seen before.

He went to protest, but found himself interrupted by a traitorous yawn and gave in because he really was exhausted. He'd grab a few minutes and then he'd demand answers was his last thought before he fell into deep unconsciousness and slept through the day and night.

* * *

Harry woke and quickly regained his full strength within the week, and in that time Harry found himself growing closer and closer to Frodo and Bilbo. The two Hobbits were endearing and found every crack in the wall that surrounded Harry's heart that he had built through the continuing war. He felt an odd connection to the younger Hobbit and soon found that he dreamed less and less of the horrors of war and more and more of the new adventures ahead of he and Remus as well as the fun times he had come to have with Bilbo, Frodo, and three other young Hobbits near and dear to the duo.

Harry was sitting in a field in the center of the Shire, watching the little children playing while he watched on as their parents went about their chores. Frodo was playing with his cousins, Merry and Pippin while Bilbo's gardener's son, Samwise, followed dutifully behind. Watching the four of them with a fondness, reminiscing to a better time when Hogwarts had still been whole and he had sat surrounded by his friends feeling safe and untouchable.

"They're a peaceful bunch aren't they?" Remus's voice came from behind him making Harry jump slightly and his wand to fall into his hand before he calmed and stored it back in his holster.

Turning back to watch Frodo and the young tweens playing cheerily among the flowers and trees, Harry responded, "Yeah, but I can't help but think it won't be able to last," he said, tone weary and aged.

Remus sighed regretfully, sitting beside the younger Man, "I agree," he said, keeping silent for a moment to share the innocent sight with his fellow warrior and nephew.

It was Harry who broke the silence, "We can't stay here permanently no matter how much I wish we could," his eyes were now trained on the distrustful gazes that were well hidden among the crowd of adult Hobbits and were equal to the welcoming smiles directed towards them.

Remus followed Harry's gaze before grunting in agreement, "But you know Bilbo and Frodo won't forgive us if we don't visit often," he added, turning back to meet Harry's eyes with his own.

Harry gave a huff of laughter, "It's been a while since I've had to worry about visiting someone," he said wistfully, turning away from Remus to check on Frodo and his friends, "but I find I don't mind the idea. I kind of like the thought of checking in with someone regularly again," he said, smiling softly.

Remus nodded, "I know what you mean," he said, before lowering his voice, "So when do we leave to explore this new home of ours?" he asked, not looking towards Harry.

Harry was surprised that he found he loved the idea of this new, magically world being home despite the brewing war on the horizon, but quickly shook away the shock and answered his honorary Uncle, "We should probably talk about it with Bilbo. He'll be able to point us in a general direction and help us figure our provisions we'll need," he said, glancing at Remus out of the corner of his eye, "We can't just magic up everything without expanding magic to keep our transfigurations permanent," he finished.

Remus nodded, "Sounds like a plan," with that said, he fell back to lay on his back, arms tucked beneath his head, and gazed peacefully up at the drifting clouds.

And that was the end of it. They discussed their upcoming journey with Bilbo and what they might need before setting a date for their departure. The day came faster than they expected and soon found themselves with heavy packs, sacs of money at their belts, and saying farewells to the five Hobbits that had quickly become like family to them with promises to visit and send copious letters. With that, they set out for adventures unknown.

* * *

 _ **Hey all! I hope this was worth the read and just wanted you all to know that the second chapter should be put up soon. Now I probably won't have a set schedule of updating and it will most likely be as sporadic as my schedule right now. I may post in bulk some times and then not post for weeks on end, so I hope y'all will stick with me and be patient.**_

 _ **For returning readers please tell me what you thought of my changes and for the new readers I hope you'll give me your opinions as well! Feedback is always welcome; notice I said FEEDBACK not some demented and idiotic attempt of baseless flaming merely because you don't like my style. That's not to say that I won't take constructive criticism because I can always grow as a writer and I hope you will help me along. Anyway, I'm babbling. I hope you enjoyed! Review please.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hey y'all! I wanted to take this Author's Note to apologize. It seems that in my summary I offended people by unintentionally implying that everyone who does not like to read slash fics are homophobic. This isn't right and I've already corrected myself in the summary and I want to apologize to those whom I have offended. I hope you will forgive my blunder.**_

 _ **With this aside, let's get on with the story!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter!**_

* * *

 **Chapter Two: New Adventure**

 **21 years later**

Harry lounged lazily beside Frodo beneath one of the many towering trees that lined the main road into the Shire. The young Hobbit was pretending to read much to Harry's amusement, but it was obvious he was far too excited to focus considering he hadn't turned a page in quite some time.

 _Why don't you just give up the pretense, Frodo?_ Harry asked mentally, making the Hobbit jump and turn a mock glare onto the lounging Griffin beside him.

"Why don't you spend more time as a Man before you become even more of an animal?" Frodo said in rebuttal.

With a bird-like chuckle Harry stood and stretched out, taking his time just to irritate the young Hobbit that had quickly become one of his best friends since he first arrived in the Shire. When he was satisfied – both with his stretch and Frodo's irritation – he slowly transformed back into his human form. He had changed since he first arrived in Middle Earth with his honorary Uncle.

His ebony hair was pulled into a low tail at the nape of his neck, auburn streaks flashing beneath the sun, and his clothes no longer caused him to stand out like a sore thumb. He wore a sturdy, weathered pair of leather breeches with a faded forest green tunic with the sword of Gryffindor resting at his waist, the rubies at the hilt glittering richly beneath the sun's rays. His feet were covered in knee-high, well-worn boots that molded to his feet and didn't make a sound on the forest floor. The only two things he had kept from his past life besides his swords were his wand and his Invisibility Cloak.

"Better?" he asked, eyes twinkling with his poorly hidden amusement.

Frodo merely rolled his eyes, unable to hide the grin that slipped onto his lips. Before he could respond the two heard a familiar voice singing a tune in the distance making them exchange grins and sprint off in the direction of the familiar song.

 _"The Road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow, if I can,"_ they approached the edge of the road to see Gandalf's cart and the old man in the front directing the horse with his large pointed hat and staff close by.

Quickly composing themselves, Frodo spoke first interrupting the old Istari before he could continue the familiar tune, "You're late," he said regally.

Harry soon joined in, crossing his arms and standing imposingly beside his Hobbit friend, while his gaze belied all of this with a bright twinkle, "And don't feed us that hogwash about 'a wizard arriving precisely when you mean to' and 'a wizard never being late' because you managed to chew into Remus and I quite often when we didn't come immediately when summoned."

Gandalf gaped speechless at the two while managing to put on an affronted air before they all broke out into joyous laughter, Frodo launching himself across the small gap from the ridge they stood on and the old wizard's cart and into Gandalf's arms while Harry leapt gracefully across the gap and into the open seat beside the wizard. The young man grabbed the reins before the wizard could blink, arms still full of a laughing Frodo, and clucked the horse along the road towards the Shire.

"Is Remus with you, dear boy?" Gandalf asked, not at all ruffled to have Harry leading his horse while he assisted Frodo onto the seat on the opposite side of the young wizard, "I must say I've missed seeing you both."

Harry chuckled, casting a sly glance towards Gandalf out of the corner of his eye, "Really?" he drew out the syllables of the word playfully, "Because as I recall you chased us both out of camp and told us not to return while throwing our packs at us the last we traveled together," he said, winking at a giggling Frodo behind the aged Istari's back.

Gandalf gave a snort, "Yes – well, that would be because you both decided it would be ingenious to fill my sleeping roll with snakes," he said, tugging his beard slightly in amused irritation.

Frodo had to cough to cover his laughter, long used to Harry and Remus's pranks having lived with them every time the two came to visit. Bilbo had thought them quite fun, and had even offered a hand or two on a few – mainly the ones that included the Sackville-Baggins' and Lobelia even more so. Frodo himself had pulled Sam in to help the two a time or two. But no one was as excited to help as Merry and Pippin, the two practically worshipped the ground Remus and Harry walked on and tried to emulate them when they were gone.

"Why snakes, 'Ry?" Frodo asked after he had managed to control his laughter.

Harry chuckled, expertly maneuvering the horse and cart through the small town of the Shire, grinning slyly towards the disapproving glares and nodding kindly to the excited greetings, "Let's just say I have a way with serpents," Harry said, winking and tapping the side of his nose at the exasperated Hobbit.

Gandalf snorted and offered a weak glare towards the younger wizard, "Or a particularly elderly Hobbit managed to let it slip that I don't much enjoy snakes of any kind," the elder said, hiding an amused smirk in his beard.

Harry chuckled agreeably, "Or that," he said.

They spent the rest of the time on the way to Bag End catching up and laughing at the pranks that Harry regaled them with. When they reached their destination, Harry and Frodo left Gandalf to catch up with Bilbo as they ran off to help with last minute party decorations. They found Remus holding up Merry on his shoulders while Pippin sat on his shoulders, straining to hook the end of a streamer on a high branch while Sam stood below directing them.

Harry raised a brow and nearly burst into laughter before raising his hand and flicking his wrist, his magic flowed out easily and gently took the streamer from Pippin's smaller hands and wrapping itself around the very branch the Hobbit tween was straining for. With a startled yell, the two Hobbits jolted upsetting their balance and causing them to fall backwards and upsetting Remus's balance as well. With a loud shout the three fell into a heap on the ground to the sound of Harry and Frodo's laughter.

"Laugh it up, brat," Remus said, rubbing his back and glaring playfully at his honorary nephew while gently shoving Pippin and Merry off of his stomach, "You'll get yours."

Harry didn't even try to attempt to look scared at the former Marauder's threat, "What I want to know is why you didn't use magic in the first place?" he asked, rolling his eyes and striding forward to offer Remus a hand up.

The man paused in reaching for the younger man's hand, face blank until a sheepish smile replaced the blank stare, "I forgot," he said as Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him onto his feet.

Remus had changed quite a bit as well. Unlike Harry, he kept his honey hued hair short, the ends of his windswept hair stopping just at his stubbled chin. He was busy brushing off similarly worn leather breeches before straightening a cyan blue tunic and adjusting the jeweled sword at his waist. The canary diamonds glinting in the late afternoon sun.

Harry gave an incredulous stare, "How did you forget that Mr. Pureblood?" he asked in a mocking tone.

Remus raised an amused brow and pulled Harry under an arm to start ruffling his hair and messing up his once smooth tail, "And how did you forget to respect your elders, brat?" he asked back, equally mocking.

Harry elbowed the older man in the ribs unrepentantly, giving a scowl as he tried to smooth his ratted hair, "What elders?" he asked, looking around dramatically, "I only see four Hobbits and a childish wizard," he said, before laughing almost maniacally as he ran from the shouting Remus.

Frodo rolled his eyes in fondness as he and the other three raced after the shouting and playful Men that had quickly become their best friends and joined their already massive family. Any thoughts of Bilbo's odd behavior the past few days pushed to the back of his mind as he focused upon the limited time he would have to spend with the two Men before they set out once more on the road.

* * *

 **17 years later**

Harry leaned against one of the many sturdy trunks of the oak trees that bordered the clearing Remus and he made camp. They could have continued on and made it past Bree before having to settle into a camp, but both had noticed Frodo's odd behavior at his fiftieth birthday the day before and decided it would be a better idea to stay nearby in case the young Hobbit needed them. Originally they thought it might have just been the Hobbit remembering his elderly Uncle's sudden disappearance from their shared birthday party seventeen years ago, but they quickly dismissed this when they discovered that the Hobbit was making preparations to leave the Shire soon.

"Do you really think Frodo is going to come this way?" Remus's voice brought Harry out of his thoughts causing the Man to glance up and see his honorary Uncle sitting calmly beside their fire and skinning a couple of rabbits for their meal.

Harry sighed, turning his gaze back to the forest surrounding them, "With how secretive he was about leaving?" he said, eyes far away, "Then yes. If he was just going on an adventure like Bilbo did all those years ago when he reached fifty, then Frodo could have easily asked to come with us rather than hide the very fact that he was leaving in the first place. This tells me that something happened in five months we've been away that made Frodo feel like he needed to keep his planned travels a secret, so it stands to reason that if he's being so secretive about his departure then he'll leave the Shire this way rather than taking the main roads towards Bree."

The man turned back towards Remus only to see the man staring at him with a peculiar look on his face, "What?" he asked, a bit self-conscious.

Remus snorted in amusement and shook his head fondly, "You scare me sometimes, cub," the former werewolf said, obviously teasing the younger Man, "I forget sometimes that you managed to foil Voldemort's plans since you were eleven."

Tilting his head in confusion, not understanding what Remus was telling him and merely rolled his eyes, "Getting senile on me, old man?" he asked teasingly, though he knew Remus had been reduced to the same age as he was by Fate when they had been transported to Middle Earth – another parting gift from the being.

Remus flicked a pebble at Harry's head that the man caught easily enough with his Seeker reflexes, "Tch, come get your rabbit Bambi before I eat your portion," he said in an equally teasing tone.

"What have I told you about calling me that?" the man said with little to no heat in his tone as he pushed himself from his position amongst the oak's roots to go and join Remus beside the fire.

"I wouldn't know, from what you're telling me I'm getting senile," Remus said, a victorious smile while he handed Harry one of the rabbits to cook to his liking and eat.

Harry snorted and took the rabbit and began to cook it over the fire, "Prat," he said, but he was smiling fondly across the fire to the Man.

Remus grinned unrepentantly and winked, "Brat," he said in reply, before he turned back towards his rabbit.

The two sat in a companionable silence as they cooked their meal and set about eating it when it met their satisfaction. As they ate they shared remembered stories of their time back in England and Hogwarts like they usually did at this time. While they had come to call Middle Earth home they still strove to remember their first home and the people they had come to love and lose there as well, so they re-told stories at every meal time in memory of both their fallen home and friends.

"I remember that one of the things your father and Sirius had to discover their Animagus forms so they could train for it was to drink this disgusting potion. Well the potion had a bad effect of giving the drinker horribly bad breath with no way to get rid of it so they stopped speaking for a month until the after-smell wore off. McGonagall obviously became suspicious after the first day of nothing obnoxious falling from either of their mouths and the excuse of losing their voice only lasted a night," Remus said, chuckling as he stared into the fire as he remembered everything, absentmindedly eating strips of cooked rabbit while Harry listened with rapt attention, "The excuses they resorted to were utterly ridiculous," by now Remus was laughing fondly.

Harry knew what came next but asked anyway, "What were some of the excuses?" he asked, grinning widely.

Remus snorted, "At first James tried but your father was a piss poor excuse maker – it was usually Sirius or I who talked us out of a situation – so Sirius took over and started spouting shit about keeping his silence as long as people were oppressed in other countries," the Man said between his laughs.

Harry laughed along, knowing along with Remus that Sirius – while loyal as his Animagus form – didn't care about anyone outside of those he was loyal to.

After laughing for a bit longer, Harry finally opened his mouth to share his own amusing story about his time camping out with the rest of his friends only to be interrupted by the sound of someone crashing through branches and underbrush loudly. In an instant both Men were on their feet, swords in their hands and running towards the road that was nearby.

They stopped on the edge, swords raised and senses hyperaware to sense any movement as the crashing grew louder and louder before four bodies fell over the ridge nearby and landed in a piled heap in the center of the road. The moment the dust cleared, Harry and Remus could easily make out the tangled forms before them and were quite shocked by what they discovered. Frodo managed to wriggle out from beneath Sam, Merry, and Pippin who were scrambling towards some mushrooms growing on the side of the road. They watched as Frodo seemed to freeze when his eyes landed on the road and listened as he shouted for them to leave the road in a panicked tone.

It was the sound of pounding hooves headed towards them and the disgusting dark aura that was growing closer and closer that kicked Harry and Remus into action. They quickly jumped from their hiding place among the trees and pulled the Hobbits into the tree line before shoving them into an overhang formed by the gnarled and tangled roots of an old oak on the edge of the road. Silencing them with a silent flare of magic, Remus transformed into his wolf form while Harry gathered the Hobbits close to him and cast a large disillusionment charm over them along with a silencer and also cancelling their scent just in case this mysterious rider had heightened senses.

He listened closely as Remus climbed back to the road and shuffled about, probably pretending to search for a scent trail, until the hooves grew loud and then stopped above them while he heard Remus shoot off back towards their camp in supposed fright. As he listened, he clutched the four Hobbits closer to him while they clutched at his tunic and arms in fright. They listened as the rider dismounted the horse, shuffling about above them.

Turning his head, Harry managed to find a space between the ground the root large enough for him to get a view of the rider that stood above them. A large Man-shaped form covered in a dark cloak that not only shadowed his face, but seemed to cover his entire body in shadow. Hissing in disgust Harry could practically taste the darkness that was entwined in this monster's very soul while the Rider dropped into a crouch directly above them and leaned over the root while inhaling deeply as if searching for a scent.

Bile was steadily rising in Harry's throat because of the continuous exposure to the thing's vile aura while the Hobbits burrowed into him and tried to cover their labored breaths. Suddenly there was a snapping of a twig and the sound of rustling underbrush off to their left and seemed to catch the rider's attention. The rider stood abruptly and strode over to his demonic horse, mounting and riding off towards the source of the noise.

The moment the rider left their sight, Remus appeared and Harry dropped his spells while pushing the Hobbit's toward the other Man. As he stood, Harry noticed that Remus was carrying their sacks from their campsite and was glad that the Man had had the forethought because Harry had completely forgotten all about their camp being so focused on getting their Hobbit friends to safety.

"Let's go," he ordered, setting off at a sprint while the others kept up easily – even the Hobbits with their shorter strides kept pace due to all their practice in keeping up with Harry and Remus through the years.

They ran through the trees, jumping roots and dodging low hanging branches without rest until they finally ground to a halt. The four Hobbits leaning against nearby trees panting while Remus and Harry stretched their senses to insure they hadn't been followed, barely out of breath – hunting for Horcruxes and running from place to place to avoid detection and capture had trained them well for this moment it would seem.

"What is going on?" Pippin asked, turning to Frodo who was the oldest of the four of the Hobbits.

Merry added his own two cents, "That black rider was looking for something – or someone," here he turned accusing eyes to Frodo who flinched minutely, "Frodo?"

Before the eldest Hobbit could even open his mouth to attempt an answer, Harry shoved Frodo and Sam down so that they would not be seen from the clearing before them as Remus did the same with a hissed, "Get down."

They all crouched there for a few tense moments before Harry let loose a relieved sigh – it seemed the rider hadn't sighted them just yet. Quickly shaking of the tense silence he spoke in a low voice in case the rider was still within hearing distance, "Explanations can wait until we are somewhere more secure," he said, turning toward Frodo on his right expectantly.

The Hobbit couldn't hide the relieved grin that spread across his features, realizing what Harry wasn't saying aloud – Frodo wouldn't have just Sam accompanying him on this journey. Feeling a bit more courageous now that he knew Remus and Harry would be with him, Frodo nodded with a new determination, "I have to leave the Shire – Same and I must get to Bree," he said.

Merry didn't even question Frodo, merely nodding his head with an equally determine look in his face, "Right, Buckleberry Ferry," he said, standing to take the lead of the group to lead them towards the edge of his home.

Harry and Remus shared a fond glance, admiring the little beings fierce loyalty to each other – it reminded Harry so much of a flame haired youth who used to follow him into every adventure with the same unwavering determination and trust.

They quickly made their way towards the Ferry, the two Men straining their senses in hopes that they would go undiscovered by the rider for a bit longer. When they reached the dock, as if their apprehension summoned him, the rider appeared behind them setting them sprinting towards the docks with Merry and Pippin in the lead, Sam close behind with Frodo right in front of Remus and Harry who brought up the rear.

Pippin shouted for Sam to get the rope that kept the Ferry tied to the dock while he and Merry tried to push it off, Remus running past Harry to join the youngest Hobbits of their group in trying to get the ferry pushed off. That's when Harry noticed that Frodo had lagged behind causing him to freeze and spin in time to see the Hobbit panting desperately while hobbling to reach the end of the dock, the rider nearly on his heels. With a protective snarl, Harry sprinted towards the tiring Hobbit, curving so he ran between Frodo and the Rider and scooped the Hobbit into his arms. With Frodo securely clutched to his chest, Harry pushed himself to his limits of speed with Remus and the other three's shouts of encouragements and fear in the background.

He could hear the huffing of the horse behind him, and swore he felt the heated breath on the back of his neck. Thankfully, he had reached the edge of the dock, and – with a mighty leap – made it safely onto the ferry, rolling to lessen his momentum. Lying on his back, with Frodo still clutched tightly to his chest, Harry tilted his head back in time to watch the rider's horse rear on the edge of the deck and hear a blood chilling shriek before the monster rode off – other riders joined him soon after his horse's hooves left the dock.

Groaning in relief, Harry let his neck relax as well as his grip on the Hobbit still shaking on top of him to stare unseeingly up at the starry sky and panting tiredly. He felt Frodo shift on his chest and expected the Hobbit to climb off of him only to get a shock when the man wrapped short arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. When he felt the warm tears steadily wetting his tunic, Harry understood and quickly wrapped his arms around Frodo once again with a more soothing hold this time rather than one of desperation and fear.

Remus soon joined them, rubbing soothing circles on the still trembling Hobbit's back and Pippin, Merry, and Sam were quick to follow the Man. They all huddled around Harry's reclined position, nuzzling into the Men for comfort and reassurance after such a fearful evening.

Minutes passed as they floated sedately down the river, before any of them moved. Merry stood to begin steering the ferry and Sam began going through his pack to insure they hadn't dropped anything on their desperate sprint through the forests. Neither Pippin nor Frodo moved from the Men's embrace, though Harry sat up by now.

"How far until the nearest crossing?" Frodo asked, voice strained and quiet causing Harry to tighten his grip a bit on his friend.

Merry spoke up in an equally quiet voice, "The Brandywine Bridge in twenty miles," he said, pushing the ferry further along with a long pole he grabbed from its resting spot.

Rather than have them all suffer through a strained and extremely apprehensive silence, Remus turned towards the wilted Hobbit currently sitting in his nephew's lap while adjusting Pippin in his own lap to make sure that the tween was comfortable, "What is going on Frodo?" he asked, tone gentle.

Harry was the only one who noticed Frodo's flinch and began rubbing gentle runes along the back of the Hobbit's hand senselessly. This seemed to soothe him, because soon the whole story came pouring out of him: Bilbo leaving him Bag End, the odd ring he found, Gandalf's sudden arrival, learning he possessed the One Ring, his determination to leave the Shire, Gandalf's odd behavior upon his and Sam's departure, and their plans to meet up at the Prancing Pony in Bree.

They all sat in silence, listening with rapt attention to the Hobbit's story until the end when Harry promptly spoke up, "Damn meddling, old coots and their obsession with setting young men on impossible adventures," the Man continued to grumble while the others snickered and chuckled at his antics.

Soon they were all a bit more relaxed, and Harry hid a smirk of triumph before starting them all on a discussion of possible routes to Bree from the Brandywine Bridge that would keep them ahead of the rider and out of its reach. By the time they reached the Bridge, they had a plan and set out on their path with determined steps.

As they ran, it began to rain heavily and the Hobbits pulled up the hoods of their cloaks while Remus and Harry transformed into timber wolves – Remus's pelt was a sheen honey color while Harry's was a dark, sleek charcoal color.

They had decided it would look far too odd for the Hobbits to be traveling with Harry and Remus, especially into Bree because the inhabitants knew the two Men well enough to know that they never entered villages or towns this late at night and that they never stayed overnight, preferring instead to camp out in the forests. So they agreed the two Men should transform – Remus into his only Animagus form and Harry into his secondary Animagus form that just happened to be the same as Remus's.

When they finally reached their destination the Hobbits' cloaks were splattered with mud and soaked while Remus and Harry's pelts were dripping with water and darker as a result. Making their way cautiously towards the closed gates, Frodo was the one to knock before stepping back to huddle closer to the others – Harry and Remus wrapped themselves around the huddled Hobbits protectively while sending out pulses of magic to sense if someone was approaching them from behind.

A small door opened and Man looked out searching through the rain, but because it was at a Man's height he saw nothing. He closed it and a few seconds later another small cubby opened on the Hobbit's level showing a weathered old face beneath a large hood lit up by the wavering light of the lantern.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice was old and high pitched making his gruff tone even more disturbing and abrupt.

Harry watched in slight amusement as Frodo drew himself to his full height and tilted his chin regally before replying, "We're heading for the Prancing Pony," his voice was still a bit shaky despite his attempts at calm.

The man opened the gate and stepped forward to block their entrance, lifting the lantern up to get a better look at the four figures before him, "Hobbits – four Hobbits!," he said in obvious shock, "What business brings you to Bree?" he asked, looking at them with slight suspicion.

Thankfully, Harry and Remus had slinked back so that the shadows cast by the lantern covered their presence – otherwise the Man might have been a bit more fearful and cautious than he already was.

"We wish to stay at an inn," Frodo said, voice a bit steadier and with a hint of steel to his tone that brought Harry pride, "Our business is out own."

The Man lifted a placating hand while stepping out of the Hobbits' way, "Alright, young sir, I meant no offense. It's my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad – can't be too careful," he said, lowering his lantern just in time for Remus and Harry to slip through the gate unnoticed in the shadows of their Hobbit friends.

The group left the gate quickly – all of them fighting the urge to sprint down the streets – dodging this way and that along the street to avoid bumping into any of the Men rushing down the main road. Sam spotted the creaking sign swinging under the onslaught of wind and rain announcing the building it was attached to as "The Prancing Pony" causing cries of relief and delight among their odd group as they quickly made their way inside to get out of the torrential rain.

* * *

 _ **I hope this continues to please my readers and that I've improved. Feedback is welcome and I hope to hear your opinions! Thank you for reading – it's very encouraging.**_

 _ **Review please!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hey y'all! I am so sorry it has been so long since I've updated. I've been working on this chapter off and on, getting in some writing when I can. I just restarted school and just started working as well, so my time to write is significantly less than it was over the summer.**_

 _ **I'm gonna apologize ahead of time because my updates are going to be staggered and all over the place with no real schedule to it. So: sorry!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings in any shape or form.**_

 **Chapter Three: A New Ally**

Sighs of relief escaped the group instantaneously as they escaped the constant downpour and entered the warm, smoky atmosphere of the tiny inn filled with drunken chatter and laughter. Harry and Remus stuck close to the door as they shook out their fur and the Hobbits moved further in, removing their hoods as they did so.

It was Frodo who spoke up once more, "Excuse me?" his voice was hesitant.

A face appeared over the top belonging to a man that was large even by Harry and Remus's standards, his beefy hands cleaning a tankard with a dirty rag.

"Good evening little masters," he said, his voice was surprisingly high for such a broad man and exceedingly cheerful, "If you're seeking accommodation, we got some cozy Hobbit-sized rooms available Mister -?" he prompted, waiting for the eldest Hobbit to provide a name.

Frodo froze minutely and it was only Pippin's subtle elbow in the back that pushed him into action, "Underhill – my name is Underhill."

Harry fought a huff of amusement, making a mental note to work on Frodo's lying skills as it seemed they hadn't improved a lick over the years. The innkeeper seemed to fall for it, however, which was all the better for them.

"Underhill, yes," he said, tone absentminded as he seemed to go off into his own little world with glazed eyes.

"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey," Frodo blurted out making Harry wince at his casual drop of their mutual friend's name in the middle of such a busy inn full of too many unknowns, "can you tell him we've arrived?"

The man seemed a bit confused, repeating the name to himself under his breath, "Gandalf? Gandalf-," then he seemed to have been struck by an epiphany, "Ah yes, I remember – elderly chap, big grey beard, pointy hat," he said looking quite pleased with himself.

Instantly, Harry and Remus exchanged weary glances having both heard this particular man's reputation of being easily forgetful despite his warm and caring nature. Both had a feeling the man wouldn't be of any help in their venture in finding the old Istari, and were vindicated when he spoke up once more, "Not seen him for six months."

With a nod of thanks, Frodo turned and ushered the other three Hobbits over to where Remus and Harry waited on them in the shadows unwilling to reveal their presence just yet.

It was Sam who spoke up first, "What do we do now?" he asked, looking towards Frodo for direction.

Frodo seemed to be lost so Harry stepped forward, nudging him gently in the hand with his snout before speaking up _Did Gandalf give you any indication of where he may have gone or what trials he might have faced on his journey?_

They stood in silence as Frodo pondered his last encounter with Gandalf only to shake his head in firm denial as he spoke in low tones in hopes not to be overheard by anyone but his companions, "No, he merely said to meet him here," he said.

Harry gained an uneasy feeling in his gut, and if the understanding look Remus shot him was anything to go by then the older man felt the same. Instead of sharing this with their already nervous friends, Remus spoke up in a soothing tone _Perhaps we're a bit early. Get adjoining rooms for us all – it seems we'll be playing the waiting game._

To lighten the mood a bit, Harry spoke up jokingly _He's probably trying to make a memorable entrance the bloody drama queen._

The Man was successful because soon enough the four Hobbits' shoulders were more relaxed as they all chuckled a bit before going off to purchase their rooms. While they were feeling in higher spirits, Harry and Remus were far more cautious and casting suspicious glances at all the patrons sitting about the bar at the front of the inn as they moved further in to order some dinner and drinks before heading in for the night.

They had removed their cloaks and given them to the Hobbit who worked for Butterbur along with their packs so that the elderly Hobbit could deposit them safely into their rooms as they claimed one of the rare open tables for themselves near one of the roaring fire places. The Hobbits ordered dinner for themselves as well as a couple of rare steaks for Harry and Remus who lay curled up around the legs of the table.

They all ate in companionable silence when their food arrived, a sure sign that there were still some nerves left over at not meeting Gandalf as they had hoped. Frodo was the first to break the silence, speaking to his gardener friend in an attempt at a reassuring tone, "Sam, he'll be here, he'll come," he said, noticing Sam glance towards the doorway for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

Any response Sam might have given was cut off when Merry appeared, setting a large tankard on the table that was almost as long as his torso causing Harry to stifle his laughter, especially when Merry sipped from it without even lifting it to tip it.

"What is that?" Pippin asked, eyes glued hungrily on the large tankard before his best friend.

Merry leaned back, wiping away the foam that had formed a white mustache across his upper lip with the back of his hand and a satisfied burp, "This, my friend, is a pint," was all he said before leaning forward once more to sip from the top of the overflowing tankard.

Seeing the awed look on Pippin's features Harry knew what was coming and moved himself closer towards Remus's position on the opposite side of the table to clear the path for what was sure to be an excitable Hobbit's careless footsteps, "It comes in pints?" he asked before bursting up and dashing across the very space Harry had cleared, "I'm getting one," was the only explanation thrown over his shoulder.

"You've got a whole half already!" Sam called after the young tween's retreating back before huffing in exasperation reminding Harry very much of Mrs. Weasley when one of the Weasley boys would go off and do something she thought was stupid – he had to ignore the bittersweet twinge that the memory brought.

The blond Hobbit turned back to his bread with a sigh, ripping it to pieces in irritation before glancing up into the far corner and turning to Frodo with an air of someone who was all together fed up, "That fellow's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived," he said, tone angry – and jealous if Harry was hearing right.

Instantly, Harry and Remus glanced in the corner with Frodo probably doing the same above them. The man had a tall tankard in front of him that seemed untouched while he smoked on a long-stemmed pipe with curious carvings in the wood. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fit him well, but had seen much wear and were caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat in the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the Hobbits closely. This man was dangerous – the real question, however, was if he was a danger to them and their journey?

Frodo quickly reached up a hand to stop the passing Butterbur who was carrying a couple of full plates and a tankard, "Excuse me," Frodo said, politely waiting for Butterbur to stop and lean down to hear the smaller being better over the loud din within the bar, "The Man in the corner – who is he?" Frodo asked, staring at the stranger from the corner of his eye.

Harry and Remus weren't nearly as subtle – the man wasn't looking at them anyway so he wouldn't notice a couple of canine's watching him intently as they listened to the innkeeper's words.

Butterbur turned to glimpse at who Frodo might be talking about before his eyes landed on the hooded stranger in the corner and turning back in understanding, "He's one of them Rangers," he said in explanation, "They're dangerous folks, wandering the Wilds. What his right name is, I've never heard, but around these parts he's known as Strider," he said in a low tone coated in fear.

Harry didn't move his gaze as he spoke to Remus _That would explain the aura of danger he's giving off in waves_.

Remus gave a huff of agreement _Probably fended off the weaker predators while he camped in the Wilds_

Nodding subtly, Harry slowly stood – making a show of lazily stretching and shaking out his pelt – his mind set on going to investigate this Ranger at closer range. Remus didn't even question him, merely resting his raised head back on his paws in a show of dozing off once more while Harry padded nimbly through the bustling crowd towards the Ranger's shadowed corner.

He reached the Man fairly easily, and by now the Ranger had noticed him because when Harry came to sit on his haunches before his boots the Man's pipe was on the table and one of his hands was outstretched towards Harry.

The Animagus stared at the calloused hand, noting the faint scent of herbs permeating the slim, elegant digits before lifting his eyes to meet shadowed blue-grey with the canine equivalent of a raised brow, _I hope you don't expect me to sniff it_ he said in an easy tone.

The Man jolted, eyes widening minutely before he gave a soft chuckle and leaned back in his chair without removing his eyes from the wolf before him while picking up his pipe once more. Harry took this as an invitation and moved closer to the Man, curling himself around his outstretched legs before laying curled atop the weathered boots with a having sigh.

He had to fight a snicker as he scented the confusion pouring off the Man whose feet he currently laid across. Composing himself, the Animagus spoke up once more _I hope you don't mean harm to my Hobbit friend whom you've been staring none-too-subtly at all night._

Before the stranger could even formulate a response to Harry's abrupt statement, a familiar high voice carried over the noise of chatter, "Baggins? Sure, I know a Baggins! He's over there," at this Harry's head shot up, eyes searching out for the familiar form of their youngest Hobbit companion and finding him easily sitting at the bar surrounded by a nasty looking bunch of Men gesturing back towards their table with a tankard, "Frodo Baggins – he's my second cousin, once removed on my mother's side – and my third cousin, twice removed -," Harry wasn't listening too closely by this point because he was already on his feet and dashing towards the loose-lipped Hobbit. Pippin needed to be silenced before he let any more slip to these strangers – none of these Men could be trusted!

Frodo reached his cousin first however, wrenching him around with a firm hand on his shoulder and a shout of the young Hobbit's name. This small tug on Pippin's shoulder of course caused the youngest Hobbit to spill his newly acquired beer – probably bought by the Men surrounding him to loosen his lips further, thought Harry darkly as he continued his approach – all over himself and shove Frodo away.

"Steady on, Frodo," Pippin said, only to watch in slight horror as his cousin tripped over one of the Men's outstretched legs.

As Frodo fell backward only Harry's keen senses picked up the glint of gold in the flickering fire light that flew into the air above the Hobbit – why the hell did he have that accursed thing out in the first place? – before it fell perfectly onto the index finger of his outstretched hand. With that, Frodo seemingly disappeared completely from sight though Harry could still smell him on the floor where he had fallen in the first place.

While the drunken Men and other beings began to panic at the Hobbit's sudden disappearing act, Harry was busy cursing fluently in multiple languages – both from his home dimension and Middle Earth – as he neared Frodo's position.

 _Take it off, Frodo! Now_ Harry said in a rarely used commanding tone that hadn't seen usage since the final battle at Hogwarts, _He's already seen you, but that does not mean he knows you. Don't give him the chance, brother, take it off._

After a few seconds, Harry was fearful that Frodo hadn't heard him – or worse yet was ignoring him – until the small figure reappeared in front of his paws with a haunted look in his eyes and the One Ring clutched in his palm with a white-knuckled grip. Before Harry could sense any form of relief a familiar calloused hand reached over him and grabbed Frodo by the scruff of his neck and began herding him through the still panicking crowd of drunkards towards the hallway entrance that led to the rooms of the inn with a gruff, "You draw too much attention to yourself, _Mr. Underhill_."

Harry cast a cursory glance over the crowd, easily locating Remus who had corralled the other three Hobbits near him, before following in the Ranger's shadow as the Man strode down the hall without releasing his tight grip on Frodo. He did not fully trust this stranger just yet, let alone trust him to be alone with someone who was a good friend, if not a brother.

They seemed to reach the desired room, because the Ranger kicked the door open and shoved Frodo to the ground before the roaring fire. Candles were lit about the room and moonlight streamed through the open window illuminating an untouched bed and weather-worn pack in a corner. Harry slipped into the room just as Strider turned to close the door behind him, making his way over to the now-standing Frodo to offer support and defense should the Hobbit be in need of it.

There was a flash of surprise in the Ranger's eyes when he caught sight of Harry standing beside Frodo – slightly in front in the beginnings of a defensive crouch with predatory emeralds piercing through Strider's own blue-grey – though it was quickly replaced by a neutral mask.

Frodo's tiny fingers made their way into the fur at the scruff of Harry's neck, obviously in search of comfort, speaking in a slightly trembling tone, "What do you want?"

"A little more caution from you," the Man said, irritation obvious and unhidden, "That is no trinket you carry," the Man's orbs flashed steely grey as he glared towards the Hobbit before turning and putting out the few candles flickering about the room.

"I carry nothing," Frodo said, and Harry fought a wince – they would most definitely be working on the Hobbit's lying skills in the near future, because his current skills were sub-par at best.

"Indeed," the Man said, coating his words in thick sarcasm as he turned back to Frodo and Harry, "I can avoid being seen if I wish…but to disappear entirely – that is a rare gift," unless you own Death's Invisibility Cloak, Harry couldn't help but add mentally with growing amusement.

Strider throwing back his hood instantly drew the Animagus's attention back to the present situation in time to get an eyeful of one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his time in Middle Earth. Regal features lined with age and experience while a strong jaw was covered in dark stubble giving the Man a far more rugged look as a result. His hair was a chin-length, tangled mess of black curls that seemed to enunciate the bronzed tone of his skin from many a time under the unforgiving sun. Harry fought the urge to drool, forcing himself to focus upon the possible danger in this situation – nothing here had reassured him of Frodo's safety.

"Who are you?" Frodo asked, a bit of a redundant question in Harry's opinion, as Butterbur had given them a name to call the Man, but the wizard could also see the benefit of the question. Perhaps they would get another answer from the Man himself.

"Are you frightened?" Or the gorgeous bastard would respond with a question of his own.

"Yes," Frodo said, Harry didn't know whether to be proud of the Hobbit's honesty or irritated with it. He settled for nudging the Hobbit in the side enough to make him lose his balance a bit and stumble slightly.

Frodo cast a glare at his furry companion as Strider responded, "Not nearly frightened enough," he said, "I know what hunts you."

 _Is everyone here a bloody drama queen?_ Harry couldn't help but let this slip, sitting back on his haunches in exasperation and just staring at the Man before him with a tilted head.

Frodo stifled a laugh, but a snort escaped through which only encouraged Harry to continue, _I mean, honestly, what did you hope to accomplish with that line? Would you rather him standing tall so he can run later or pissing his pants and huddling in a corner?_

By this point, Frodo was clutching his stomach while smothering his laughter into his freed hand while Strider just stared down at Harry with a bemused stare. It was this scene that Remus and the others busted in on, Sam yelling out – what Harry was sure the Hobbit thought to be in a very threatening manner – "Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks!"

Harry was very amused to note that the Hobbits' "weapons" consisted of a chair, a candelabrum, and what looked suspiciously like a walking stick. However, all amusement left him when Strider's sword was pointed at his tiny family and he was soon on all fours and prepared to pounce on the Man should he show any sign of harming any them.

He relaxed minutely when the Ranger quickly sheathed his sword, speaking to Sam as Remus slipped over to flank Frodo and Harry, "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit. But that will not save you," he said, turning back towards Frodo not giving any indication of surprise this time when he noticed Remus's honey-colored form standing with the other two, "You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. They are coming."

Instantly, Remus was turning to Harry with the canine equivalent of a raised brow making Harry huff and shake his head, _No we didn't tell him Frodo's real name and yes, he's been acting this dramatic since we got in here_.

Remus gave an amused huff, _Figures. You always get us into the weirdest situations Flash_ the former werewolf grumbled good naturedly.

Harry gave an offended growl, though the amusement twinkling in the depths of his eyes gave away his amusement _Oi, you have Frodo to thank for this one. I was just being a wing man._

Both Animagus seemed unaware of their audience as they continued to bicker playfully, gaining the desired effect of lessening the tension in the room. Sam, Pippin, and Merry abandoned their weapons and went to join Frodo beside the fire while Strider went over to the window and stood off to the side of it, gazing out at the street below. To all in the room he appeared to be ignoring them, focused mainly upon what might be happening outside – Remus and Harry knew better, having used the same ploy many a time during the War. The man was aware of everything that was happening within the room and probably listening closely to their conversations.

He wasn't someone to be underestimated, no matter how much Harry joked.

2

A chilled shriek pierced the silent night, carrying throughout the small town of Bree and causing many to startle awake in a cold sweat. None were nearly as fearful as the Hobbits that sat huddled together on the large bed in the center of the Ranger's room, watching the window with weary gazes. Harry and Remus sat up straighter from their guard posts near the foot of the bed, gazes set unwaveringly on the unseen street below where they could hear the swishing cloaks of the very creatures they had been running from on their way out of the Shire.

"What are they?" Frodo asked, slipping from the small huddle and moving closer towards the window as if drawn by some unknown force.

 _Besides epic pains in the ass?_ Remus said under his breath, following in Frodo's shadow while Harry remained by the foot of the bed stifling his snickers.

Strider cast the honey-colored wolf another bemused glance before he returned to staring out into the night, his sword unsheathed and resting over his lap, "They were once Men," he said, after a few moments of silence. His tone was weary and dark, as if he was to blame for whatever befell the creatures, "Great kings of Men. Then, Sauron the Deceiver gave them nine rings of power and they are now slaves to his will. They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead," here he turned his heavy gaze onto Frodo who stood frozen a few feet from the sill, "At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

 _Well that's bloody brilliant_ Harry said, falling into a lounging position with a huff, _Remus, remind me to bite that old codger in the ass the next time I see him._

Remus snorted _I'll take the left if you get the right_ he said, his muzzle stretched into a wolfish grin that would have sent chills down anyone's spine but only made the Hobbits snicker weakly.

Harry bowed his head in acquiescence, _With pleasure. Bloody ass didn't say anything about Dementor wannabes during his history lesson._

Continuing to grumble in irritation about stocking up on chocolate and Pepper Up, Harry helped Remus urge the Hobbits back into the single large bed in the center of the room to catch what rest they could before dawn. Once they were settled, Remus took position at the foot of the bed nearest the door and Harry took the window across from where Strider had dragged the wingbacked arm chair that had once been beside the fire place.

Silence settled over them all – by now the Hobbits had drifted off despite their nervous energy – until it was broken by Strider's quiet tenor, "What is a Dementor?" the way he said the word was as if he was tasting something for the first time and wasn't quite sure if he liked it yet.

Harry glanced at the Man before turning back to watch the puddle-filled street below, debating whether to answer or not. He had come to trust that the Ranger only wanted the Hobbits' safety, but he didn't trust the Man himself just yet. Finally, deciding the information couldn't be used to hurt them in any manner he finally spoke up.

 _Dementors are horrible creatures that can suck the happiness and warmth from wherever they dwell. If there are enough of them, or you've had a pretty traumatic past they can cause you to remember your worst memories,_ Harry's tone was grim as he continued to stare out at the wet night not really seeing the street below, _But the worst part is if they kiss you, because once their lips touch yours they suck out your soul and your left nothing but a walking, breathing carcass._

With that a heavy, chilling silence filled the room for the rest of the night with only the Hobbits' snores and snuffles to fill the void.

2

Dawn couldn't have come sooner for Harry, and the moment it did Strider had the Hobbits up and going out to gather supplies for their journey. Soon they gathered at the edge of Bree with a pony packed down with all of their foodstuffs and Remus and Harry's packs tucked away out of Strider's sight.

Strider only took a moment to insure they had everything they might need, before turning and leading them toward the tree line. The moment they breached the thick forest Harry felt as if some of his tension slipped away and the deeper they went the more relaxed he became – that's not to say that he wasn't cautious, but he spent so much time in forests that he felt them more predictable than small towns and cities.

It seemed he wasn't the only one who felt this way, because when Frodo spoke up from beside Harry the Hobbit's voice was lighter than Harry had heard it since before his and Bilbo's shared birthday and the elder Hobbit's disappearance, "Where are you taking us?" he asked with innocent curiosity.

"Into the Wild," said Strider.

Harry wanted to roll his eyes at the Man's short tone, but realized that while the Man's shoulders weren't as tense here in the forest the man was still weary. The wizard couldn't quite blame him considering what he now knew about these Nazgul creatures.

Merry's voice broke Harry's thoughts, "How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?" the suspicion was coating his tone and Harry wanted to smack him upside the head for being so obvious.

He chooses to respond instead, _It's not so much a matter of whether he is a friend of Gandalf or not, so much as a question as to his intentions. He's done nothing to threaten you four and has gone practically out of his way to protect you from these Nazgul creatures. Now he could be luring us into a false sense of security, but honestly it would have to be a pretty elaborate plan and he would have had to know we were coming to the Prancing Pony before we did. So I think we can trust him so far as not to lead us to our deaths._

The Hobbits just stared at him for a moment before Remus's snort of exasperation shocked them out of it, _Honestly, he hides his deductive skills so well you almost forget he has them and then BAM he practically slaps you in the face with it,_ he said in a disgruntled tone.

Harry tossed an unrepentant grin over his shoulder along with a jaunty wink. Sam cut off any further merry-making with a simple question, "But where _is_ he leading us?" He had a firm hand on the leading rope for his pony that he'd fondly named Bill.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee. To the House of Elrond," Strider called back over his shoulder from where he walked a yard ahead of them – Harry could see why people called him Strider, the Man could move!

"Did you hear that?" Sam asked, excitement coloring his tone and his step becoming a bit more bouncy despite the rugged terrain, "Rivendell! We're going to see the Elves!"

Harry rolled his eyes; he wasn't quite as impressed with the Elvin creatures as the blond Hobbit seemed to be. They weren't as amazing as they seemed from the stories, in fact the few that Harry had met reminded him far too much of the elitist Purebloods from his own world with a longer memory span, but he wouldn't ruin the Hobbit's awe with his cynical opinion. Besides, there may be quite a few that weren't like that – after all there was always an exception or two to the rule, look at the Weasleys, the Diggorys, and even the Longbottoms.

There was very little chatter after that, which threw Harry off a bit as he was used to the occasional conversation or song from traveling alone with Remus. And Strider's pace was murderous – not so much for Harry or Remus as they were used to traveling in such circumstances merely on a whim rather than a need but the Hobbits were not.

This was proven when Strider passed over the mountain pass and the Hobbits set about making a small camp while Harry and Remus hovered in the space between the soon-to-be camp and where Strider had disappeared. The two Animagus were saved from being the bad guys when Strider reappeared from over the other edge of the pass.

"Gentlemen, we do not stop until nightfall," he said, staring down at them with an adorably cute serious face – in Harry's opinion anyway.

"What about breakfast?" Pippin asked sounding almost scandalized that the Ranger would think of skipping such meal.

Strider's features morphed into befuddlement and Harry honestly had to fight the urge to grin dopily, "You've already had it," he said, wisps of confusion sneaking into his cool tone.

Pippin looked as if he was speaking to a particularly slow child when he next spoke, "We've had one, yes. What about second breakfast?" he asked.

Harry watched in silent amusement as Strider shook his head minutely and disappeared once more over the edge of the pass, while the Hobbits set about re-packing what little they had managed to pull out of their packs. As they went to follow the Ranger, Merry patted Pippin's shoulder in a mock-sympathetic manner, "Don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip," he said as if imparting the largest secret onto the youngest of their group.

Pippin's horrified features had both Harry and Remus turning away to bite back laughter. Their restraint was further tested when the Hobbit's panicked voice called after them, "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?" with each new suggestion, Pippin's voice became more desperate.

Merry glanced over his shoulder, eyes twinkling with smothered mirth, "Wouldn't count on it," he said, before turning back around with a ill-concealed grin.

Thinking the entertainment was over, the two Animagi let down their guard and went to continue walking before an apple came flying over their heads, hitting Pippin in the head before falling into his hand. The tween's baffled gaze between the sky and the apple sent the two wolves rolling around on the ground literally howling in laughter.

 _ **I hope this was well worth the wait for y'all. If not feel free to tell me, maybe it'll give me a bit of a push – probably not if we're gonna be honest though. Anyway, I love constructive criticism and I hope y'all will review. I love hearing from all of you and getting your opinions – even if it's as simple as you don't like my word choice, feel free to tell me!**_

 _ **I also want to thank all of you who have reviewed so far: I appreciated every single one.**_

 _ **Thank y'all! Hopefully, y'all will hear from me again this year.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**DeRanged: I am so sorry it has taken me as long as it has to update! I was so absorbed in school that I let everything else fall to the wayside. In return for the long wait, this chapter is slightly longer than the other three have been. I should also be updating this more regularly now that it is summer and I only have my part-time job to worry about. I plan to update at least once a week from now on, but don't hold me to that to strictly. I hope you enjoy and it was worth the wait! I only have one last parting disclaimer:**_

 _ **I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR HARRY POTTER!**_

 _ **With that done, read on my friends!**_

* * *

 **Chapter Four: The "Mortal" Wound**

The tension surrounding the odd mixture of companions slowly lessened with each passing day of travel and very soon stories were being shared as they made their way to Rivendell and as they ate around the campfire. Even Strider began offering his own tales of adventure thus erasing the last bit of distrust that remained between the Ranger and his charges.

This became more evident that night when they all set camp. Strider – rather than remaining just within the light of the dancing flames of their low fire while the Hobbits and their magical companions pressed close to its warmth – sat amongst his vertically challenged travel companions with Remus's warm body against his back and Harry to his right. Sam was passing the full plates around the fire as he listened to Merry and Pippin laughingly re-told of the firework they had set off within one of the tents during Bilbo's birthday party.

"Harry, Remus," Frodo said, gaining the two lounging wolves' attention, "you haven't eaten since we left Bree. Surely you're hungry!" his pure blue eyes were jumping between them with obvious concern.

This caused Pippin to stop mid-sentence and Merry mid-laugh as they stared guiltily at their heaping plates – they hadn't realized that the two Men hadn't been eating! Sam was flustered when he realized that he had stopped making the two plates having forgotten their presence around the fire – he couldn't quite remember if it was because they were being so quiet and still or because they weren't at camp when he dished out what he'd cooked. Strider's piercing blue eyes moved between each wolf in surprise – he himself hadn't eaten at every meal but he had still eaten in the week they'd traveled.

Harry gave an amused huff and shook his head, _We're fine Frodo_ , he said, nudging Pippin and giving him a pointed glare until he began eating, _We've hunted a couple of times while you slept._

Remus lifted his head from his front paws to nod along with Harry's words, _Even if we hadn't, we've gone far longer without eating_ , he said, golden eyes going hazy in remembered pain and hunger, _Before_ _ **and**_ _during the War._

The Hobbits winced slightly at such haunting words, but knew better than to argue the matter further. They'd learned quickly that when this mysterious War was mentioned to quickly change the subject. They had heard plenty a tale from Remus and Harry in the thirty-eight years they'd known them – about the good and funny times in their home world – but never had they heard details about the hard times. They weren't even sure they wanted the details after seeing the haunted look it put in both Men's eyes, selfish though it made them feel. So quietly they began eating once more.

"What War?" Strider's voice cut through the tension with precision, eyes dancing around his charges before finally being held captive once more by enchanting emerald.

Harry gazed deep into the cyan pools for a moment longer and felt nothing but trust – perhaps it _was_ time to share Remus and he's history at last with their newest friend. The Ranger had more than proven himself in the short week they had traveled through the thick wood with the Nazgul at their heels. Breaking eye contact to glance at Remus to gain his Uncle's consent, he pushed himself to sit on his haunches and let his tail curl around his hind legs.

 _Before I can explain the War, there is more you must know,_ here Harry glanced over at the lounging Ranger who was watching him with rapt attention, _This tale will not be short, nor will it be easy. Are you still willing to listen?_ the wizard asked – something deep inside him that he fought to smother was desperate for this gorgeous Man to listen and understand.

After a moment of deep contemplation, Strider nodded, "I am."

Harry bowed his head in acceptance to their guide before turning to the Hobbits who were listening closely to their exchange, _And you my friends? Are you ready to listen?_

Frodo sat up straighter and put his plate aside – a plate that was still half-full of food Harry noted with disapproval – before meeting his childhood friend's eyes confidently, "If you are finally willing to share it, then I am more than willing to listen old friend," he said, eyes determined but soft with understanding.

Not to be out-done, Merry and Pippin quickly chimed in to agree with Sam following bravely behind as always. Giving a lupine smile, Harry bowed his head to them in thanks while Remus panted happily at the support shown.

 _Then I must begin by first telling you, Strider, that Remus and I do not come from Middle Earth,_ Harry said, tone calm and lilting, _Our home world shares some similarities with this one, but in the end they are still different._

He glanced at the Man beside him out of the corner of his eye to see him gazing calmly at him, listening attentively. With an odd warmth blossoming in his chest Harry returned his gaze quickly to the fire and continued, _Just as in this world, prejudices against those seen as lesser lead to much hatred and conflict. However, unlike here, Man and Istari ruled whilst magical creatures such as goblins and elves were made to be disrespected and subservient._

Glancing around Harry could not help but mentally compare his Hobbit friends to children listening to a fairytale. Fighting a chuckle as he imagined their reaction to his observation, he quickly went on, _The biggest prejudice came from within the Istari. You see there was division amongst them over something so simple, so miniscule: blood. There were Istari who would trace their ancestry as far back as possible – much like Hobbits – to prove that they came from a long line of Istari born from Istari. Then there were those born from Istari parents who were cast out because they were not gifted with magic at birth and were labeled squibs. But then there were those who were born from non-magical parents with the gift of magic who were known as Muggleborns – or more derogatorily as Mudbloods because they were seen to be dirtying the purity of the Istari bloodlines. Even still were those born from an Istari parent who mated with either a Muggleborn or a non-magical partner coined as half-bloods. Many of the "pure" Istari held a hatred for the Muggleborns entering their world, and believed they should be eradicated down to the last infant._

Frodo gasped in horror, while Sam looked angry and ready to jump to the defense of these Muggleborns he was hearing about. Merry and Pippin for once were gazing seriously at Harry with sad eyes. Even Strider seemed disgusted by what he was hearing, but his tone was calm when he spoke, "Why would they hate them so?" he asked.

A simple, but loaded question and one Harry had asked himself many times during the War. He gave a bitter chuckle, _That is not an easy answer to give. In my opinion, the original reason Muggleborns were so hated was because of fear. When the Istari community was first created it was done in secrecy and out of need for safety. Istari were being persecuted and murdered by non-magicals everywhere – Muggleborns posed a breach in their protection because of their non-magical parents. But somehow it became twisted in the long run of history. There were those few that believed the magic the Muggleborn children were born with was stolen from the squibs, but the biggest reason I could find for their hatred was merely because of the "taint" of their non-magical parents' blood. This hatred led to the War._

"But that's ridiculous!" Frodo exclaimed, clenching desperately at the rough fabric of his trousers in righteous anger.

Harry's aged orbs met Frodo's own as he tilted his head, _No more ridiculous then some of the Hobbits back in the Shire who look down on Bilbo for his taste for adventure or distrust outsiders,_ Harry said, his voice soft, _People hate what they do not understand and what does not fit into their understanding of the world._

Frodo looked away off into the trees knowing the Man was right, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow for all of the Hobbits present. They were slowly realizing that their small, safe little world in the Shire was slowly crumbling down around their ears each day they continued on this adventure. Despite this, they knew Harry and Remus would fight tooth and nail to help them keep the ruins to rebuild in the future.

Recognizing he'd given his friends much to think about, Harry kept silent. He rose to his paws and shook out his fur in an attempt to rid himself of the itch to look over at the Man beside him – his attraction to the Ranger was getting out of hand in his opinion and needed to stop here. All plans to smother this growing spark in his chest were destroyed when a gentle hand began to card through the fur on his back causing Harry to practically melt to forest floor. Those hands should be illegal! No man whose hands were so calloused by a sword should be so gentle and thorough in removing all tension from his body and making his thoughts go fuzzy.

A soft chuckle from Remus brought Harry back to reality like a bucket of ice water down his spine. Reluctantly moving out of the Ranger's reach the dark wolf sat up once more and looked around the fire to see if the others were ready for him to continue. He ignored Remus's apologetic whine and was oblivious to the flash of disappointment in the blue eyes that enthralled him so.

"Why would you and Remus be involved in this War?" Strider asked, features composed and neutral when Harry forced himself to glance at the Man, "Wouldn't you two be magical creatures and thus not have reason to fight in the Istari battle?"

Harry shared a confused glance with Remus before it dawned on him that neither of them had been around the Ranger as Men. They had continued to travel as wolves to lessen the strain on the food supplies and as an added layer of protection with their heightened senses. When they had transformed back it had usually been when the Ranger wasn't present. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he quickly tried to explain, _Magical creatures did fight in the War – on both sides and for many reasons – but Remus and I are not magical creatures ourselves._

Seeing his growing confusion, Harry decided to throw out all attempts at tact and merely transformed back into his human form. When the transformation was complete he stretched his aching muscles and rolled his head while messaging his neck – being a wolf had its perks, but the transformation back after so long always left him feeling as if he'd been shoved into a small space for hours without moving. While he did this he surreptitiously gazed at Strider through his fringe trying to gauge his reaction to the sudden transformation – at the very least the Man hadn't drawn his sword on him.

"We," he cleared his throat to try and smooth the roughness of not using his physical vocal chords in days, "We are Istari," he said in a much smoother tenor.

Despite the neutral mask the Ranger tried to keep, Harry saw the obvious shock the man felt in the minute widening of his eyes and the slight parting of plush lips that had been haunting his dreams of late. He saw Remus tensing slightly and no doubt preparing to come to his defense, but a sharp glance had the wolf settling back down reluctantly. By the time Harry glanced back at Strider, the Man was once more composed and staring at Remus with curiosity dancing against a blue backdrop.

"Can you transform as well?" he asked the honey colored wolf, getting a huff of amusement from the large creature.

 _Of course I can, but at least one of us should keep our heightened senses while we're out here,_ the toffee-colored wolf said, the ears atop his head flicking about with each new noise only he seemed able to hear.

Strider nodded in understanding before turning back to Harry and the moment their eyes met the wizard felt something in him relax finally. Knowing he could trust Remus to keep watch, Harry stretched out his legs and leaned back comfortably on his palms to gaze up through the upper branches of the trees to catch a glimpse of the stars.

"So can all Istari in your world transform into wolves?" Strider asked, bringing Harry's gaze back to him.

Smiling gently, he shook his head and hummed, "Not really. The talent isn't extremely common due to the extensive training it takes to accomplish it, but I knew a man who transformed in to a large, black dog and my own father could transform into a stag. The animal is really determined by the inner character of the person transforming. Does that make sense?" he asked, feeling slightly sheepish at his haphazard explanation.

Strider nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face, "So the animal represents the Man who transforms?" he asked for clarification.

Harry nodded, "Man or Woman," he said, noticing the omission, "I knew a particularly fearsome woman who taught me in my school days who could transform into a cat."

As he spoke he glanced around to his Hobbit companions only to see they were setting out their bed rolls – they already knew about Harry and Remus's ability to transform.

"So Istari in your world are Men and Women?" Strider's surprised voice drew him back to their conversation.

Sitting up and hugging a bent knee close to his chest Harry nodded, turning to lay his head sideways on his knee so he could watch Strider without straining his neck too much. It was Remus who responded, _Istari in our world aren't like the ones here Strider. We were known as wizards or witches and were just like any other Man or Woman. The only difference is that we were blessed with magic at birth._

The Ranger nodded his understanding and stared into the fire obviously trying to soak in all of this new information he'd learned – Harry thought he looked rather cute with the slightly overwhelmed, but eager look in his eyes.

He was thankfully drawn from his damning thoughts when Sam called his name from across the fire, "Are you going to be sleeping as a Man tonight, Harry, or are you going to transform back again?" the blond Hobbit asked, standing by Bill the Pony where he had just finished re-packing the cooking supplies he'd used tonight.

He hummed in thought before shrugging, "I'll probably transform back after I walk around a bit, Sam," he said, moving to stand and stretch once more.

The practical Hobbit nodded with a – in Harry's opinion – hilariously serious look on his face as he made his way over to the puppy pile of Hobbits. When Sam finally settled on his bed roll he was at Frodo's back who was facing Pippin, the tween snuggled into his elder cousin's chest with Merry at the youngest's back. It was an endearing sight and with a pang Harry recalled times when he had been in Frodo's spot – sleeping in the center of a protective pile surrounded by all of his friends.

"Would you like the company?" the soft, deep voice from beside him almost had Harry jumping out of his skin – only Remus had been able to actually surprise him since they had arrived in Middle Earth.

He turned to Strider and shook his head quickly, "No!" he said, wincing at how harsh that sounded in his rush, "No," he said, a lot more gently this time, "I just need my own company right now. All this talk of the War has a few of my demons raising their heads," he smiled ruefully.

Strider gave a hesitant nod and walked over to settle himself among the roots of a large tree that allowed him a better vantage point of the whole camp. Harry tried not to let his gaze to linger as the Man leaned against the trunk of the tree and stretched his body out, quickly turning to meet amused gold orbs. Glaring weakly, he jerked his head in the direction he planned to go off in before spinning abruptly on his heel and stalking off. He was unaware of the warm, worried blue pools watching his retreating back.

* * *

"-and the sunlight streamed into the clearing turning all of the trolls into stone before they could eat the dwarves," Frodo finished, chuckling slightly as he remembered Bilbo telling the tale with the different voices and grand gestures of his arms beside the crackling fireplace in Bag End.

Harry snorted from where he was walking beside Frodo, one hand resting on the jeweled pommel of his sword, "At least trolls here can talk and have such a weakness," he said, shuddering as he remembered the terrible smelling, loathsome looking troll he had encountered in his first year at Hogwarts, "The trolls in our world just stunk to high heaven and took a pretty significant amount of force to put down."

"When did you run into a troll?" Remus asked looking at his godson incredulously from where he was walking on the other side of Frodo – Pippin and Merry were right behind them speaking in low tones while Sam seemed quite content to walk silently beside Bill in the back of the company.

Harry winced and laughed sheepishly, "My first year?" he said – it came out as a question more than a statement.

"What?" Remus asked, voice breaking a bit in the middle of the word.

Strider glanced back in confusion before slowing his pace slightly to walk beside Harry, "What seems to have distressed you Remus?" he asked.

Remus looked strained as he tried to explain, "In our world the Istari go to a castle filled with tutors to learn magic. The education is split into skill levels based on age and goes for seven years. First year pupils – those just starting their education – are only eleven," he said, he turned to Harry with molten gold pools while Strider's head turned abruptly stare at Harry with wide eyes, "What the hell were you doing facing a troll at eleven?"

Harry forced himself not to shift around like a scolded child caught with their hand in the cookie jar – he was fifty-six years old for Merlin's sake! The warmth on his cheeks betrayed him however and he huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of his face as he spoke, "It wasn't intentional," he winced when he realized just how petulant he sounded.

Peeking over and seeing the unimpressed brow Remus raised, Harry sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, "Why is that even though we're practically the same age now, you still manage to make me feel as if you've caught me out past curfew?" he asked staring at Remus with world-weary emeralds and a fond chuckle.

Remus's lips twitched but he seemed to force himself to keep the stern look on his features, "Answer me," he said in a demanding tone, eyes no longer burning but no less serious.

Sighing, Harry nodded turning to watch the rugged path ahead as he spoke, "It was Halloween – Samhain," he added for Strider and Frodo's benefit before continuing, "A troll was set loose in the school during the feast – Quirrell was going to use the teachers' distraction to try to take the stone, but Severus realized and cut him off – and Hermione had locked herself in the second floor loo and had no idea. So I took Ron to go and get her-," he was cut off by Remus.

"And why didn't you try and tell a teacher?" he asked, rubbing his temples in frustration.

Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow towards Remus, "I went ten years with teachers who wouldn't listen to anything I said, why would I trust the ones at Hogwarts? It may be a magical school, but it was a school nonetheless," he said without bitterness, just weariness, "And besides, all the teachers besides Severus and Quirrell had gone to the dungeon where the troll was supposed to be."

Remus flinched, but nodded in understanding, "Then a prefect?" he asked – he knew he was grasping at straws but he hated to think of what danger his godson had gotten into only because of distrust of authority figures or because those authority figures betrayed what trust he had placed in them.

"Percy," he said with a snort.

"Ah," there was really nothing Remus could say to this – Percy Weasley had shown himself to be a good man when the War had begun, but he had taken his sweet time to reach that point.

Harry grunted in agreement before returning to what he was saying before, "Ron and I went to get her – we thought it would be fine because the troll was supposed to be in the dungeon. Once we reached the second floor though we smelled something absolutely foul just as we watched the troll turn the corner ahead of us. We of course hid behind a pillar as we watched it walk into a room before running behind it and locking it in," he said.

"So you only saw it from a distance," Remus said with obvious relief.

Harry knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help the laughter that escaped him, "When have I ever been so lucky?" he asked as he calmed himself.

Remus groaned, "Merlin help me," he said, gazing up at the leafy canopy above their heads, "What happened next?" he asked with reluctance.

Harry smirked, "You're asking the wrong question Moony," he said with a teasing lilt to his voice.

"What's the right question?" Frodo asked, slightly frustrated with all the interruptions – he hadn't heard this tale from Harry as of yet.

Harry glanced down in slight surprise – he had forgotten for a moment that it wasn't only Remus and he going off on another adventure – before smiling in amusement, "What room did we lock the troll in?" he asked.

He let his question sink in as they continued to walk, turning once more to gaze ahead.

Surprisingly it was Strider who figured it out first, "You locked it in the room with the Hermione girl," he said staring at Harry with wide eyes.

"No," Remus said, looking torn between laughter at the irony and horror at what was no doubt to come next.

Frodo just gaped as Harry nodded, "We locked it in the room with Hermione," he said in confirmation before continuing, "We didn't realize until we heard her scream and then ran back. She was frozen against a wall as the troll raised it's club about to hit her – she wasn't very good with thinking on her feet when thrown into a dangerous situation in those first few years – until Ron and I threw some of the debris on the lavatory floor at it."

"Of course you did," Remus said with what sounded very similar to his canine form's whine.

Harry shrugged, "It was either that or let Hermione get crushed," he said – and for him it truly was that simple of a decision in his mind – before continuing his tale, "Anyway, by this point the brute was confused on where it should focus it's attention. After swinging at Ron and I a couple times, he seemed to realize Hermione was an easier target and turned his attention on her again. At this point I wasn't exactly deep in my magical education so I did the first thing that popped into my head – I hopped on the troll's back."

Remus choked, eyes bulging while Strider gaped at the Man walking beside him and Frodo gave a squeak, "Hopping onto the back of a troll you've told me takes a lot of power to take down was the first thing that popped into your head?" the Halfling asked with a strained tone.

Harry tilted his head in thought before shrugging and nodding, "I was practically a twig and about as tall as you are Frodo – I wasn't going to overpower it so I figured maybe I could choke it or something," he said in a dry voice, "Didn't quite work out though – my wand went up it's nose and it managed to grab me off it's back after a few minutes of throwing itself around."

Remus moaned as if in pain and clenched his hair between his fingers at his temples, staring at Harry with wild eyes, "You are going to give me grays again, cub!" he said in a tearful tone.

Harry snorted, "Don't be such a drama queen Moony," he said, rolling his eyes, "It wasn't that bad. Hermione had managed to get out of the way and Ron thought to use his wand. He levitated the troll's club and then let it drop so that it hit the thing on top of the head – knocked the troll right out," he said – he decided to leave out the portion where he'd nearly been hit by the very same club a few times as Ron floundered for what to do before Harry shouted the suggestion to him.

He watched in slight amusement as Frodo and Strider let out gusty sighs of relief, oblivious to the other three Hobbits behind him doing the same. Remus however was still strung as tight as a bow.

"Didn't you tell me once that Ronald had a difficult time with that spell?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Harry fought a flinch as he searched desperately for a way to spin it so he wouldn't have to tell the truth, but he wouldn't have to lie either. Thankfully the end of the forest came into view, and – rather than answer – the Man sped up until he was practically running.

"That speaks for itself doesn't it?" Remus asked mostly speaking to himself, before he too sped up with the rest of the group to keep up with Harry.

When they all exited the forest they gazed across a vast field to see the ruins of what was once a – no doubt – very intimidating tower. Beneath the slate gray sky of the setting sun, the tower appeared more like a grave marker than a lookout post. Strider took a step forward as if in a trance, before he seemed to catch himself.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sul," his voice held an aching pain and respect that hit Harry in the stomach like a bludger - it was far too similar to how he himself sounded when he spoke of Hogwarts nowadays.

"We shall rest here tonight," Strider's far more composed voice broke Harry from his thoughts and the Man could breathe once more.

He desperately needed to get a handle on these rising emotions.

They made their way quickly towards the ruins, reaching the base of it in record time. There was still some light left in the sky as they climbed the crumbled steps. The Hobbits decided to set camp about half-way up in what looked to have been a room of some sort had the wall and half the floor not crumbled away with the passage of time. Now it simply looked like a ledge on a cliff-side covered as it was in encroaching moss and greenery.

As the four Halflings began laying out bed rolls, Harry and Remus stood on the ledge looking back the way they had come. Strider was kneeling beside a bundle that he quickly unrolled before the Hobbits revealing a line of blades that would be far too short for a Man, but would be a perfect fit for a Hobbit.

"These are for you," he said as the four Hobbits hesitantly began picking a blade for themselves, "Keep them close. I'm going to look around," he said, standing and looking to Remus and Harry when he spoke this time, "Stay here," and with that he walked off.

Harry crossed his arms as he stared after the Ranger, "He shouldn't go off on his own," he said almost unaware he was speaking aloud.

Remus snorted and looked at Harry with a raised brow, "Hark who's talking, Flash," he said before walking over to Sam to help the blond Hobbit unpack the few packs he had brought up with them – he had left Bill to graze peacefully at the base of the tower.

Part of Harry wanted to argue, but he knew it would be pointless – he had been far more reckless than Strider at a far younger age with less experience beneath his belt. Feeling the past few sleepless nights finally catching up to him, Harry glanced one more time across the land they had traveled with a growing uneasiness to find it empty.

Shaking his head at himself and putting the feeling off as lack of sleep, he turned to Remus, "I'm going to get some rest while we're here. Wake me if I'm needed," he said.

Remus glanced up and gave a gentle smile, "Peaceful dreams, cub," he said before returning to the pack he was sifting through.

"One can hope," Harry said.

He glanced about the small ledge and came to a quick decision. Transforming into his wolf Animagus form once more, he padded over to where Frodo himself had settled in to get some sleep. He circled the snoozing Hobbit's form a few times, and finally settled for curling around Frodo's back as they used to do out in the garden of Bag End on particularly sleepless nights. As if sensing the familiar warmth, the dark-haired Halfling leaned back into Harry's side and Harry himself settled his large head in the Hobbit's lap feeling small fingers tangle themselves into his fur at the base of his neck.

With this familiar weight and warmth, Harry found himself drifting softly into sleep.

* * *

With the feeling of his blood turning to ice, Harry shot awake and was instantly alert. His head was raised and emerald eyes that usually looked like green leaves warmed by the sun were glowing, acidic green. Remus was sitting stiffly surrounded by Sam, Merry, and Pippin with glowing, molten pools staring intently at the same place as Harry. Absently, Harry recognized that Frodo woke with a gasp while clutching his chest where he had hidden the Ring in his breast pocket.

Something purely evil was headed their way.

 _We need to leave,_ Harry said moving to his feet and transforming back into a Man mid-motion.

He began packing anything he could get his hands on until he realized no one but Remus had moved to begin packing up camp.

"Now!" he said, his voice was sharp and commanding causing the Hobbits to jolt instantly into action.

Thankfully they hadn't unpacked fully so re-packing took little-to-no time at all. Throwing one of the packs over his own shoulder he made sure that each Hobbit had their blade before urging them to climb the stairs while glancing over his shoulder with the prickling feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. Remus led the group quickly up the broken, rough staircase while Harry brought up the end trying to nudge them to go even a bit faster with a growing unease.

The moment they stumbled out onto the top of the tower there was a petrifying shriek that seemed to reach into their chests and clench their hearts with a tight grip of fear. Quickly the two Men flanked Frodo as Merry, Pippin, and Sam stubbornly placed themselves in front of their friend and cousin – all had their swords drawn. It seemed they had done it just in time as the Nazgul arrived seemingly stepping out of the very shadows around them.

The monsters – for these were no longer Men despite their humanoid forms – pulled their swords simultaneously before there was a distinct pause. No one moved.

Finally – with mighty cries – Merry, Pippin, and Sam charged forward to engage the Nazgul. Harry had never been more thankful he and Remus had given them some training even if it had only been with sticks. The three lasted far longer than the two Men had expected and were soon thrown to the edges of the tower unconscious for now.

Shoving Frodo behind Remus and himself, Harry spoke low enough for the Hobbit to hear, "Find something to hide behind Frodo," he said, making sure he could see every single one of the Nazgul that approached them.

He heard the shuffling behind him that indicated Frodo's movement and with one less distraction in play, he desperately searched his mind for an idea on how to fight these dementor-look-a-likes.

Then it hit him. He had made the comparison to Dementors – perhaps they had the same weakness.

"Remus," he said, flicking his wrist so the familiar worn wood of his holly wand fell perfectly into his grip, "Let the Marauders run," he said, knowing his Uncle would catch on quickly.

He saw Remus nod out of his peripheral and began trying to remember every love inducing, warm memory as he gathered his magic, " _Expecto Patronum_!"

In an instant a silver stag, a large dog very similar to a Grim, and a phoenix burst forth from the tip of his wand in a blinding flash of white. He heard the incantation echoed from his left and soon enough a large werewolf came forward to join the other three in the charge. The stag lowered its head and managed to impale one of the creatures on its rack – smoke rising from the point of contact. A paralyzing shriek left the Ringwraith as it was hurled over the edge of the tower by Prongs who quickly turned to find another opponent. Padfoot and Moony were tag-teaming one of the wraiths, leaping forward to bite before retreating and allowing the other to do the same from another point. Shadow let out a heart-lifting song that seemed to push the shadows away as it grasped wraiths with it's talons, dive bombing and weaving through the enemy.

Harry felt himself grinning in triumph, but quickly pushed the feeling down – he shouldn't get too cocky. Two or three of the Ringwraiths used the patroni's distraction to move towards where Frodo had stumbled back in shock thus leaving him wide open. Instantly, Harry and Remus were there to engage them with jeweled swords flashing eerily in the light generated by their protectors.

Almost too late, Harry realized one of the wraiths had slipped past their guard and stood over where Frodo's form once lay – had the blasted idiot put the Ring on again? Trying desperately to get rid of his current opponent, Harry watched in horror as the wraith prepared to impale Frodo with it's blade. Then – with a fearsome cry – Strider appeared wielding a sword and a torch masterfully. He quickly threw the torch with precision until it impaled itself within the hood of the wraith standing over Frodo and setting it aflame driving off the remaining Nazgul.

As the burning Nazgul ran off the edge of the tower, Harry finally allowed his magic to fade – thus causing his patroni to dissipate – and sheathed his sword. Seeing that Remus was already checking on the other three, stirring Hobbits Harry quickly turned in time to see Frodo with the short sword sticking out of his shoulder collapse completely to the ground.

With a rising horror, Harry fell to his knees beside the pale Hobbit and began weaving diagnostic charms around him. He ignored the blade for now – all his field medic training telling him not to remove the blade unless he wished to do more damage – and focused on making sure Frodo was stable before he set about fixing the problem.

As the parchment appeared before him and his eyes skimmed down all of the diagnoses listed, he recognized another form kneeling beside him, "He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," Strider's gentle voice identified the figure instantly, "This is beyond my skill to heal – he needs Elvish medicine," the Ranger said.

"We're six days from Rivendell," Sam said, tone full of his panic and desperation, "He'll never make it!"

Harry ignored them all, speaking in a sharp and demanding tone, "Remus get me a Blood Replenishing Potion, the strongest sedative I have packed, a Pain Relieving Potion, and a Calming Draught," he said, flaring his magic so the parchment in his hands went up in flames, "I need to get them in his system before I even attempt to remove the blade," he said as he began rolling up the sleeves of his tunic to reveal toned and scarred forearms.

"On it," Remus said pulling on the leather cord that disappeared beneath his tunic to reveal a small pouch attached to the end of it about the size of a grape. Opening it the four spectators stared in awe as the man's hand disappeared into it up to his elbow before coming out with a glass vial full of a burgundy, viscous fluid. The Man tossed it towards his kneeling companion before repeating the process thrice more to pull out three more vials full of similar fluid – one silver, one a deep purple, and the last one a faded blue.

Harry quickly levitated his wand in front of him and sterilized it along with his hands and forearms before he completely began, "I need everyone to either remain silent or Remus needs to cast a silencing charm around all of you so that I cannot hear you – I need all of my concentration for this. This blade needs to be removed with the utmost care and any distraction can lead to a mortal mistake –do I make myself clear?" he asked, pinning the five watching him with jade pools that seemed to have an ebbing and increasing glow about them.

"I'll cast the Silencing Charm now, Harry," Remus said in a calm tone that soothed the three Hobbits near him, "Just do your best, cub," he said, eyes dulled with worry.

Harry turned his full focus to the Ranger still kneeling beside him who bowed his head but remained where he knelt, "If my presence will not bother you, I would like to watch you," he said in a calm voice, blue pools still and tranquil despite the situation, "Perhaps your healing may be applied by healers in this world."

Harry nodded, "Remain absolutely silent and still then," he said, casting a glance back to Remus to indicate he needed to cast the charm now.

With a nod Remus cast a quick, " _Silencio_ ," around his form and the Hobbits' before stowing his wand back in the holster on his wrist and placing his now empty hands on Pippin and Sam's shoulders. Merry stood between them and merely leaned back against Remus to gain strength from the Man.

"Don't worry," he said to them, eyes trained completely on his godson's bent form with confidence, "Harry was trained as a war field medic and has brought me back from the verge of death many a time in far worse situations than this."

Feeling slightly more reassured the three Hobbits turned to watch their friend's bent form as he tried to heal their other friend.

Harry was oblivious to this as he quickly cut the front of the shirt in half and split the sleeve on the Hobbit's left arm to reveal Frodo's pale chest and the thinner skin over his elbow. Typing a strip of the Hobbit's shirt around his upper arm tightly to make the veins over his elbow bulge the Man tapped the vials – the liquid inside disappearing almost instantly – and then placed the tip of his wand over one of the more prominent veins. His eyes blazed an acidic green as he used his magical site to watch each potion flow through Frodo's bloodstream so that he could time each for their best efficacy.

Once the three potions were in Frodo's system Harry finally turned his attention to the cursed blade almost reeling back at the writhing darkness that coated it – he noted with an almost overwhelming disgust that it was slowly worming its way into the Hobbit's chest where it was embedded. With a new urgency, Harry cancelled his magical site to place his hands around the grip of the sword and began feeding his own magic into the blade. He ignored the sweat that was building on his brow and dripping down into his collar – he was far too focused upon the invisible battle of wills between his magic and that of the blade's own putrid force. Closing his eyes to better concentrate the Man wasn't aware of the steadily growing shimmer of power engulfing his kneeling form and Frodo creating a very striking image.

When he felt his magic truly coated the entire blade thus forming a barrier between it's magic and Frodo he began to pull the blade out with steady hands inch by inch. He froze when the blade gave one last futile attack when only the last inch of the blade's tip lay embedded in Frodo's chest and flared his magic to accommodate the blade's own increase in power as he wrenched the blade completely from his younger friend's chest just in time for the tip of the blade he removed to shatter off.

With a grim triumph Harry threw the sword to the side – ignoring the fact that the blade turned to dust mid-arc in the air – and began flushing Frodo's wound with his magic to eliminate any wisps of the blade's magic that might remain within. Once he was sure no more of the putrid, black magic still remained in Frodo's system Harry quickly spelled the Calming Draught into Frodo's veins to ensure the Hobbit would not go into shock as he finished healing him.

Leaning back he flicked his wand to cast one more diagnostic charm to check for any further damage to the Hobbit's organs with the blade's removal. Seeing none, he nodded and quickly began weaving his wand into complicated designs to stop the blood flowing from the wound and healing the torn tendons and muscle that were separated by the blade – Harry was never so thankful that the Nazgul had only managed to get the Hobbit right beneath the collarbone rather than lower where the blade could have pierced a lung or nicked Frodo's heart.

Double checking his work and soothing any pain that might appear after the Hobbit was completely healed, Harry finally returned to reality. With a groan from remaining bent over Frodo's form for so long without moving much, Harry finally stood and stretched.

"Is he healed?" Strider asked with his tone coated in awe with what he had seen and left over worry for the Hobbit that had been placed in his care.

Harry looked down to the Ranger in slight surprise, having forgotten momentarily that the Man had been there before smiling reassuringly down at him and nodding, "All I need to do is stitch his wound closed and place a bit of salve over it to combat any infection," he said, gesturing at Remus to inform the man he could lower the Silencing Charm now.

He was not expecting to be barreled over by three small forms colliding with his own causing him to fall backwards and hit the ground with a pained grunt. Looking down he found the other three Hobbits clinging to him and crying in relief making him sigh in fond exasperation. With gentle hands he patted each of them on the head before untangling himself, "I still have much to do, my friends," he said, "Sam why don't you go ensure Bill is ready for our journey and even out the weight of the packs so Frodo can ride him – I very much doubt we will continue to camp here after what has just occurred. Merry and Pippin, I want you two to guard his back and help hasten the job if you can," he said.

The three Hobbits didn't waste time arguing and merely nodded seriously before bustling back down the stairs they had climbed not hours before and leaving the three Men standing around the Frodo's supine form.

Remus dug into his magical pouch once more and pulled out a small tin, a needle, and a spool of thread – it was thin and barely visible to Strider's eye. When he was sure Harry had all the things he needed and finished replacing the empty vials back in the pouch around his neck the former werewolf embraced his unsuspecting godson tightly until Harry's spine cracked, "You did very well and I am so proud of you, cub," he said in a low voice only Harry could hear, "And I know many others are looking down on you now beaming," he said before pulling away and smiling into tearful emeralds, "Now, I am going to help keep the other three on task, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said as he winked towards a confused Strider and strode out of sight.

Harry cursed his honorary godfather mentally in every language he could remember as he reluctantly knelt once more at the still confused Ranger's side, trying desperately to fight down the blush he felt warming his cheeks. Quickly doing the sanitizing process over again with the needle and thread included, Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when Strider spoke up, "May I do anything to help, Harry?" he asked unaware of the shiver that went down the wizard's spine when he stated the Man's name.

Trying desperately to get his emotions under control, Harry thought about it and realized that there might be something, "You wouldn't happen to have anything I can use for bandages?" he asked, forcing himself to meet attentive cyan orbs, "This will prevent his clothes from irritating the stitches and rubbing off the salve I'm going to put over them."

Strider smiled kindly and nodded before getting to his feet and disappearing to get the bandages he had in his pack. With a relieved sigh, Harry focused entirely on cleaning around Frodo's wound and beginning to sew it shut with practiced, deft movements. He became so absorbed he was unaware of Strider's return and the Ranger sat silently in wait – he didn't want to distract the fascinating Man before him.

With the last edge of the wound sewn approximately, Harry tied off the thread and cut it with a slice of wandless magic. Placing the needle to the side of him, he unscrewed the lid of the small tin Remus had handed him and gathered a dollop of sage green paste on his index and middle fingers. Once he was sure he had enough he gentle spread it over his work, ensuring every edge of the wound was covered until he leaned back and screwed the lid back on with his clean fingers.

Seeing his chance, Strider stepped forward, "I have the bandages here," he said, pretending not to notice the minute jump the Man gave at his voice.

Turning with a wide smile, Harry nodded at the Man, "Thank you," he said, "If you could wrap it for me?" he asked with a sheepish tilt of his head and a raise of his paste-covered fingers, "I need to clean up."

Strider stepped forward, but his brow was furrowed in slight confusion, "Could you not clean it with your magic as you did before?" he asked as he knelt beside the still unconscious Hobbit.

Harry chuckled as he conjured a block of soap and a bowl of steaming water, "I wish, but no," he said as he began scrubbing his hands thoroughly with the soap bar until they were covered in a good lather, "The paste I used has magical properties that prevent tampering with magic which means I can't spell it clean."

Strider nodded in understanding as he gently lifted the Hobbit and supported him with one arm as he removed Frodo's cloak and ruined shirt. He then gently rested the Hobbit against his chest as he began wrapping the bandages around Frodo's wound with gentle, deft movements. Harry was greatly impressed and felt his amorous feelings for the Man grow against his better judgment.

When Strider glanced up, Harry realized he had been staring and quickly returned to rinsing his hands in the warm water while silently berating himself. Once his hands were completely free of paste and soap he flicked his fingers to rid himself of excess water before drying them with magic and banishing the soap and bowl with a thought. Gathering the tin of salve – ensuring that the lid was on firmly – and the spool of thread with the needle, Harry glanced once more at Strider to see if he had finished.

The Ranger catching his glance finally spoke up, "I have one more time around the shoulder before I can tie it off," he said in a low voice.

Harry nodded and settled in to wait as Strider finished the last round and tied off the bandages. When the Ranger laid the Hobbit back onto the ground and looked dubiously at the ripped shirt he had removed from the Hobbit, Harry quickly moved forward with his wand ready.

With a swish of his wand the shirt looked brand new – even the frayed threads at the hem disappeared and loose buttons became tight once more. Looking at Harry with an awe that made the Man slightly uncomfortable, Strider began to redress the Hobbit in his shirt and cloak. Once done he lifted the Hobbit in his arms and stood with Harry, both making their way down the stairs where the other four of their companions were no doubt awaiting them to set out once more on their journey to the safety of Rivendell.

They had dealt the Nazgul a heavy blow this night, but they were not fooled into thinking the wraiths were gone for good.

* * *

 _ **DeRanged: Well there you have it folks – the fourth chapter of my revised story. I look forward to all reviews and am always willing to hear feedback and constructive criticism. I'm going to apologize only one more time here and then I won't be doing it anymore: I'm so sorry it took so long for me to update. With that last apology out of the way all I can say is review please and look for the next chapter in the revision some time this week or next.**_

 _ **THANKS FOR READING! :D**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**DeRanged: Hey so here is the next chapter to the revision, but before we get into it I find myself needing to apologize. This story is in fact not abandoned, but due to the fact that I am actually in school – as I've mentioned before – and have work, my posting was put off. I have reached a point where I feel I will be able to post more regularly, but don't quote me on that, yeah?**_

 _ **Anyway, I wanted to address a reviewer who logged on as a guest (HonestPuck) a long time ago. I realize my story was a bit confusing in the beginning because I was being highly vague about Harry's age for a reason until the former chapter. You didn't have an account I could message so I thought I would just over all address everything so there aren't any further questions:**_

 _ **At this point in the story Frodo is 50, Sam is 38, Merry is 36, Pippin is 28, Harry is 56, and Remus is 57.**_

 _ **They arrived in Middle Earth when Harry was 18 years old – yes I realize that in the books the War ended when he was 17 but I've tweaked things around to better fit my timeline for this and in this the War ended a year later.**_

 _ **Also if no one noticed in the movies all of the Hobbits (outside of Frodo when he was burdened with the Ring) are extremely child-like in their interactions. I am trying to keep to that with how the others react to Harry and Remus though they may come off as childish Hobbits in the movies came off as very tactile and very innocent and thus child-like.**_

 _ **With that all addressed I want you guys to know that if you are ever confused to feel free to ask me because I may not realize how vague and confusing it is. I know what it means as the omniscient author but you guys may not glean what I meant or I may have forgotten to add in a hint or foreshadowing in my writing so please bring it to my attention so I can clear the air.**_

 _ **Thank you HonestPuck for your review! And for all of the others I've received – you're wonderful. Especially those who have stuck with me through my sabbatical.**_

 _ **Now I'll finally let you get back to the reading you've been waiting for :D Enjoy**_

 _ **I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR HARRY POTTER.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Five: An Impromptu Lesson**

Their worn group traveled through the night and most of the next day. The conscious Hobbits did not even protest when they didn't stop for meals choosing instead to snack as they walked – all were far too eager to place as much distance as possible between themselves and the once legendary watchtower. This, along with their worry for the still unconscious Frodo, drove the travel companions forward despite rising exhaustion and throbbing feet.

Harry cast yet another worried glance back at his friend spread across Bill's broad back and fought the urge to slow his pace to walk beside the pony with Sam – the gardener had yet to leave his Master's side since they left Amon Sul. The dark-haired Hobbit's pale complexion coupled with his continued unconsciousness had warning bells ringing in the wizard's mind that only the darkness at their heels kept him from answering. He only allowed himself to check Frodo's wound to ensure the stitches were still approximated and to spell the nutrition potion into the Hobbit's stomach to make up for his loss of meals due to his state of consciousness – anything more would have to wait for when they finally made camp.

Remus wasn't in any better state of mind as his inner wolf was practically mauling his mental barriers to be released and hunt down the bastards that had put Frodo in such a state and threatened his Pack. Despite no longer being a werewolf, Remus had learned quickly over the years in Middle Earth that his time as a werewolf created a unique link between himself and his new Animagus form. Much like when he was a werewolf his Animagus form was almost sentient and seemed to have a personality all its own. Moony – while controllable by his wizard and now no longer slave to the call of the moon thanks to the Lady Fate – was still very much alive and he demanded blood. Only Pippin and Merry's warmth at his sides and the controlled waves of soothing magic that ebbed and flowed from his godson's form unconsciously kept Remus from giving into his baser instincts.

The two wizards' companions were oblivious to their inner turmoil due to their own worries and mental plights. Merry and Pippin were extremely worried for their elder cousin who had acted far more like a brother to them growing up – seeing the Hobbit so pale and weak left them unbalanced – and both sought comfort from their calm, yet no less mischievous, friend. Sam was fighting every urge to place his hand on Frodo's brow to check for fever every few steps and only allowed himself to touch his Master to wipe the sweat from the Hobbit's temples with a worn hanky – he wouldn't be insulting Master Harry's skill as a healer just for the reassurance of mother-henning Master Frodo.

Strider was no less tortured, but it wasn't only his worry for Frodo that plagued his mind – emerald pools that shone with power and compassion danced through as well. Why was he so drawn to the other Man? What was this odd pull he had felt in his chest since the wizard had revealed himself to be a Man rather than just a wolf? And why did he feel the need to share everything with the powerful being a step behind him and have everything shared in return? These questions swirled unanswered through the Ranger's mind as he practically stalked through the forest determined to find a good campsite before the sun met the horizon in the west.

In heavy silence the companions moved forward with grim determination, united in their goal to protect the unconscious Hobbit among them.

* * *

When Strider finally called a halt they were in a lush clearing and the sun was only just beginning to touch the horizon and thus painting the sky through the leaves of the trees a beautiful mixture of purple and pink. Merry and Pippin quickly set about unpacking their sleeping rolls and the cooking utensils as Sam began digging a pit for a fire. While Remus gathered wood Strider stalked off without a word into the trees to no doubt do a perimeter check.

Harry set about removing the sticking charm that kept Frodo secure to Bill's back and performed a general assessment of the Hobbit as he did. Deciding it might be best to assist the blood flow back into Frodo's limbs before he removed him completely from the pony's back Harry set about gently moving the Hobbit's left leg backwards and forwards at the knee before moving on to do the same to Frodo's right leg. He then moved up to do the same to Frodo's arms by bending the arm at the elbow. It wasn't until he moved on to the Hobbit's right arm that he noticed something amiss – Frodo's hand was clenched tightly around something in a white-knuckled grip.

The warning bells that had settled into a dull ring came back with a more insistent clang and Harry quickly turned the Hobbit's hand over and began prying his fingers loose. With each finger he managed to pull back he gently messaged the blood flow back into the cool digits until the Hobbit's palm was open to the sky revealing the seemingly innocent golden bauble resting in the center. As he reached to remove the Ring from Frodo's palm he absently recognized the feeling of something slithering across his Occlumency barriers – it wasn't until he touched the cool metal of the Ring that he realized just what was in his friend's possession. How could one be here in Middle Earth?

Strengthening his barriers against the Ring's onslaught and ignoring its attempt at seductive whispering, Harry quickly lifted the Ring from Frodo's palm and placed it in the Hobbit's front breast pocket where it had been kept the majority of their journey. Nose wrinkled in disgust, Harry quickly allowed his magic to flare briefly in an attempt to cleanse himself of the Ring's clinging taint where it had attempted to bury its hooks. Unaware of Strider and Remus's curious gazes, Harry cast a narrowed gaze at the slowly returning flush to Frodo's generally peach-toned skin before turning the slowly stirring Hobbit's head to face him.

Once crystalline blue orbs fluttered open, Harry pushed into his friend's mind with a gentle determination – if the Ring was what he thought it was he would not have another friend twisted and lost to evil mechanizations. Moving quickly and efficiently through vividly colored memories and dreams, Harry sought after the familiar evil presence – his prey would not escape.

Quickly the wizard honed in on the darkness of the Ring feeding on his friend and set about building a wall between it and Frodo. Thankfully the darkness had yet to breed and grow; only taking a small corner of his friend's mind thus easily contained. After sealing his own darkness away subconsciously for close to eighteen years, Harry was well adept at containing this darkness and setting Frodo's mind to subconsciously fortify the barriers against it should it every try to escape or grow.

When he was assured that Frodo would be safe, Harry gently pulled himself from the Hobbit's mind, apologetically mending any harm he may have done in his single-minded entrance to the younger's mind as he went. Blinking rapidly, Harry let the hands that he had used to frame Frodo's face gently slip into the Hobbit's thick brunet curls and message his scalp at the Hobbit's groan of pain. Leaning forward, Harry brushed a kiss to Frodo's forehead and whispered a soft apology as his magic snaked out to sooth the no doubt pounding headache the Hobbit currently had.

With a grunt of relief, Frodo's eyes closed once more and he let his head fall forward to rest on Bill's back – despite how tired and drowsy he felt, Frodo was wide awake. Continuing his gentle messaging of Frodo's scalp for a minute longer, Harry cast a quick and wandless diagnostic charm to make sure that there weren't any surprises before he attempted to move the Hobbit completely from Bill's back. Skimming the parchment efficiently and seeing nothing new, Harry untangled his fingers and lifted the Hobbit effortlessly off of the pony's back and made his way easily towards the fire.

As he assisted Sam in getting Frodo settled in the nest of blankets and sleeping rolls, Harry finally became aware of being watched. Leaving Sam to finish settling Frodo in with a promise to check the Hobbit's wound once more before they all went to sleep he turned to see Remus staring at him with a raised brow that demanded explanation and Strider standing nearby obviously curious for an answer himself.

With a weary sigh, Harry stood and made his way over to the other two Men and prepared himself for what was likely to turn into an interrogation.

"Harry, why did you enter Frodo's mind?" was the first thing out of Remus's mouth the moment Harry was close enough to hear his low tones.

Strider stepped closer. His eyes were alight with increased curiosity and worry as Harry ran a scarred hand through his hair only to scowl when he realized he had pulled it out of its contained tail.

"It's a Horcrux – the Ring is a bloody Horcrux, Remus," he said as he pulled his hair roughly back into a tail at the nape of his neck.

"What?" Remus's cry drew the Hobbits attention to them, but the two wizards were oblivious, "How is that possible?"

Grunting in frustration, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, "From what I could glean from the damn thing's whisperings and the history Gandalf gave us, it seems Sauron made it," he said, unaware of those still listening in confusion to their low conversation.

"Well that much is obvious, Harry, but -," before Remus could continue his frustrated rant, Harry shook his head.

"No. Remus, you don't get it: he _made_ it – as in he forged the bloody thing around his -," he made vague hand gestures in his frustration, unable to finish his sentence.

Remus looked completely flummoxed, pausing before speaking again, "You mean he -," only to cut himself off and shake his head with a look of obvious disgust across his face, "But wouldn't he have had to -?" he didn't quite complete his question, but Harry understood anyway.

"In our world, yeah," he said, "but we both know the magics of Middle Earth differ from ours – remember all the bloody rules Gandalf told us the Istari have to follow?" Placing his hands on his hips with a sigh, he looked up towards the sky and wished for his broom – flying had always helped him re-center himself and plan around the latest challenge in his way.

"Fair point," Remus said in a sigh as he rubbed his temples – this was becoming a nightmare.

"What's a Horcrux?"

Pippin's innocent question brought the two wizards abruptly back to the present as their heads snapped towards where the Hobbits sat around the fire staring at them curiously and with no small amount of worry. Even Strider was watching them, though his gaze had become wearier as the two Men's conversation had continued – though he did not understand the content of the conversation, he could understand that whatever they spoke of brought its own danger to their quest.

Remus and Harry exchanged a heavy look before seeming to come to a silent agreement – though they wished for their friends to maintain their innocence for a bit longer, they had learned from their own past experiences that keeping information from those it concerned only lead to disaster.

With a nod, Remus quickly transformed into his wolf form and ran off into the brushes to begin doing his own perimeter check while Harry turned to face the Hobbits once more. Making his way to the fire, the Man settled silently across from the Hobbits in a meditative pose while gesturing Strider forward to join them.

When the Ranger hesitated, Harry finally spoke, "Remus will be running perimeter and guarding our back as I fill you in," he said, his tone quiet and gaze patient.

With one last glance into the growing darkness that began to surround their camp and encroach into the glow cast by the fire, Strider came to sit beside Harry – right beside him in fact. Shifting uncomfortably as he felt the other Man's warmth begin to seep into his side, Harry forced himself to still when the Ranger turned a questioning gaze onto him – damn his bloody feelings to hell. Clearing his throat and tearing his sights away from the captivating pools that seemed to dance with their own light and shadows unaided by the fire nearby, Harry turned to meet the knowing gaze of his friends. There was nothing he could do to hide the blush that bloomed on his cheeks and made its way down his neck.

Having mercy on his friend – though it would serve the Man right after all the times he had pushed Frodo and he into compromising positions – Sam spoke up, "So then, what's this Horcrux thing?"

Harry tilted his head, struggling to find a way to word the answer before sighing and deciding to just go for it – he had been Sorted into Gryffindor after all.

"A Horcrux is a vile piece of magic, Sam. To understand, you have to realize that when someone kills another it leaves a mark on the soul," Harry placed his hands over the fire and began to shape it with his magic, "Now, imagine the fire is one such soul – if we were to kill an innocent without remorse, a piece of our soul will splinter off," here he pulled forth one of the licking flames to have it float in his palm separate from the fire, "Someone like Remus or myself could then store that torn piece of soul into an object," here he pulled off one of his rings and with a flick of his wrist made it appear as if the flame was imbued into the ring, "creating a Horcrux."

Looking up to see if they understood him, he was met with gazes staring horrified at the ring in his hand, "Is it just your peoples' souls that splinter with such an act?" Strider asked, unable to tear his gaze away from the ring in Harry's palm and what it now represented in his mind.

Harry shook his head sadly, "No, a soul is a soul whether there is magic entwined or not, however I do believe people of magic are far more aware of it when it occurs," he said with a shrug.

"What do you mean?" Frodo asked, finally pulling his gaze from Harry's hand to look up at his friend.

"He means that our – that is those like Harry and I's – magic is so deeply entwined with our souls that to lose a piece of our soul is to lose a piece of magic with it," Remus said, coming from the shadows to join them in the circle of firelight to sit on Harry's other side, "and it's quite a painful process that's been likened to losing a limb."

Ignoring the Hobbits' jumps in surprise, Harry turned to tilt his head in question towards his honorary Uncle whilst slipping his ring back into its place on his left index finger. Shaking his head as he sat, Remus spoke as if giving report, "I set perimeter wards and traps, but sensed nothing. I'll go back to check again in a bit," here he turned back to the Hobbits who were now glaring at him weakly for the fright, "What?" he asked, confused.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, "They didn't hear you coming, so when you showed up it gave them a bit of a scare," he said, smiling even as the glares turned to him.

"Ah," Remus nodded in understanding.

Giving a huff of irritation, Merry rolled his eyes, "Why do you two know so much about these things if it's such a 'vile piece of magic' like 'Ry says?" he asked, bringing them all back to the topic at hand.

The two Men winced, and Remus cleared his throat before answering, "Er- well that's a bit of a long story -," he began only to trail off and turn his gaze to Harry, offering support or distraction without a word.

With a strained smile Harry reached out to pat Remus's arm in reassurance, squeezing it before he drew his hand back to his lap, "This story is a long one, and while Remus and I will come in later, it is not in fact our story. If you are willing to bear with me, I will do my best to tell it," he said, turning to each of those listening unaware of the power and weight his emerald gaze carried with it.

When he only received nods and an encouraging squeeze to his shoulder from Remus, he drew a preparatory breath and took a quick swig from the water skin at his hip, "Our story begins with a magical family known as Gaunt, descended from a wizard who was quite famous in our world known as Salazar Slytherin. This family was one of those who adhered to the belief of keeping their line pure, but took it a step further than many even in that time would in the belief that it would keep their inherited gift of speaking to snakes alive," noticing the confused looks he gave a wry twist of his lips, "They inbred," he said.

The looks of disgust and realization he received, even from Remus, tore a laugh from him, "I felt the same, especially when I learned that they were married to their brothers or sisters."

Remus shook his head, "And no doubt their magic slowly became nearly non-existent," he said, before turning to the Hobbits and Strider, "Magic was not completely understood in our world – no one really knew why we had it or how we were born with it. It wasn't like here, though there were the rare few that believed we were blessed by gods or even by Magic itself. One thing was understood though – the more inbred the family the less magic the offspring received until the line would die out, or in all actuality it would become a line of squibs."

Nodding in understanding they all turned back to Harry, waiting for him to continue. Chuckling, Harry did just that:

"Remus is right. By the time I learned of the Gaunt family there were only three remaining with the name. The head of the family was Marvolo Gaunt with just enough magic to claim a wand and his two children: Morfin and Merope. His son, Morfin could also claim a wand, but his daughter only had enough magic to fuel her potions. As I'm sure you can expect from our earlier discussion, Merope was set to marry Morfin the moment they were both of age," he got quite a few looks of disgust at the reminder, "but you see Merope did what none from her family had done before – she fell in love with a man without magic, a man named Tom Riddle."

Pausing to take a swig from his water skin again, Harry did a quick glance through the shadowed brush surrounding their camp before he turned back to continue; "Now along with the ideology of keeping their line pure, they also adhered to the hatred of those without magic. So you could imagine the violence Merope would face should her brother, or worse yet – her father – discover her feelings for this man without magic who rode past their shack in the woods each day, just close enough for Merope to gaze longingly at him through the window," he met the grim gazes of those captivated by the story, even Remus was caught up in its telling as he had never heard this part of the story.

"So did she marry her brother?" Sam asked – he was a bit of a romantic at heart and felt a bit of camaraderie with this woman who pined after a love she believed she could not have.

Harry gave a grim smile, "No, she did not, in fact. You see while Merope did not have much magic, she was by no means simple minded – so she planned. Before the marriage could occur, both Gaunt men were arrested -," seeing the looks of confusion from those native to Middle Earth he quickly reworded, "Erm- they were collected by those of authority and taken to be imprisoned for crimes they had committed."

Once he was sure they understood, he continued after another quick swig of water, "Finally free of those who kept her from pursuing the focus of her feelings, Merope continued with her plan," before he could go further, Pippin interrupted with impatience.

"You keep saying that, 'Ry," he said, throwing his hands up in exasperation under the fond gazes of his friends and cousins, "What plan?"

Raising an amused brow, Harry patiently explained, "I was getting to that Pip, but if you like I can tell you the plan now?"

Blushing, Pippin shook his head causing his auburn curls to bounce against his forehead, "If I don't get it when you're finished, I'll ask," he said, looking down at his hands.

Chuckling, Harry shook his head, "No need to be embarrassed, Pip. It was a good question, one perhaps the others were too fearful to voice," here he gave a significant look to the other three.

Catching on quickly they all nodded under the tween's curious gaze, while Merry spoke up, "Yeah, Pip. Thanks for that, it was driving me nuts trying to figure it out," he said with a genuine smile.

While the Hobbits were encouraging Pippin, Remus was speaking to Strider over Harry in low tones, "Pippin has been the victim of many a harsh word in the Shire. He's a bit small for his age, and as he is the next in line to become Took many expect too much of him, far too young. As a result, he's not always the most confident Hobbit, though he would have you believe otherwise," he turned a fond golden gaze onto the youngest of their little group.

Shoving Remus off of his lap where the Man had perched to be heard by the Ranger on his other side, Harry snorted at the former werewolf's disgruntled look, "Perhaps you would like to change seats so you can speak to Strider without me in the way then Moony?" he asked teasingly.

Remus looked at him wide-eyed for a moment before he smirked at his honorary nephew mischievously, "Not at all Flash, I wouldn't want to get between you two," he said with mock reassurance.

Eyes widening, Harry quickly cleared his throat and tried to regain the four Hobbits' attentions again while avoiding Strider's questioning gaze.

Confused as to what Remus had meant and also as to Harry's reaction, Strider was kept from thinking on it further when Harry continued the tale that had Strider captivated in a way that he hadn't been since he'd been a boy at Elrond's knee.

"Now that she had removed her father and brother from her path, she set about brewing the potion that would guarantee her the love of her prince," Harry smothered a snicker as Remus's eyes widened in understanding and the others' brows furrowed in confusion.

This time it was Frodo to ask, "What potion did she brew?" he asked, voice still a bit weak but growing a bit more in strength with each passing moment.

With a smirk, Harry spoke, "Why, what other potion would ensure the return of her feelings but a love potion?" he asked, only to sit back and watch as the Hobbits exploded.

He was not disappointed.

"A love potion?" Merry asked with eyes wide.

"But that's cheating, that is Master Harry," Sam said in obvious outrage, no longer feeling sympathy for Merope.

Frodo was just shaking his head, eyes wide with disbelief and disappointment with Merope's actions.

Pippin was surprisingly quiet before speaking up with a thoughtful tone, "But if she has to give him a potion for his love – is she really getting love, or infatuation?" he asked, turning curious eyes onto Harry.

The other three stopped speaking immediately to turn to their youngest member in shock at his insight. Harry, however, gave Pippin a wide and warm smile that was echoed on Remus's face, "You're getting a bit ahead of me Pip, but that is an excellent point."

Strider had been quiet through the whole of the chaos – love potions? No such magic existed in Middle Earth that he knew of. Sure there were perfumes and scents passed out by medicine men and women alike that were acclaimed to catch the interest of the one you loved, but none that claimed to insure their love. Why would you want such a thing? Would it not be more satisfying to know you had won their love honestly? That they had fallen in love with you for yourself, rather than some fabricated version? For some reason his gaze was drawn to the Man sitting beside him throughout his thinking.

Harry's smooth voice quickly drew him from his thoughts, "Once she had finished brewing the potion, it was easy enough to give to Tom Riddle," he said, stretching out his legs – near Remus to avoid the fire – to clear them of pins and needles, unaware of how close it put him to Strider when he leaned back on his hands as he spoke, "All she had to do was stand outside the shack until the man rode up as usual and offer him a drink for his thirst. And so, before the confused eyes of the non-magical village – for you see Tom was from a very prestigious family in the town who was well known and well off – Tom Riddle married the nobody from the strange shack in the woods despite the pleadings of his family or betrothed to do otherwise."

Remus – noticing just how close Harry had moved to Strider – grinned mischievously and quickly lifted Harry's feet into his lap to begin messaging the calves which caused the Man to lean even further back on his hands which lead to him being even closer to the Ranger. Harry was oblivious to his godfather's mechanizations and Strider's sudden attention to his scent and the feelings it caused – he merely smiled towards his godfather in thanks before he continued with the story.

"Merope and Riddle continued on for some time, Merope in her fantasy and Riddle within the rose-colored haze of the love potion. But one day this all changed," smirking Harry leaned a bit forward to the Hobbits, unaware of the flash of disappointment in the Ranger's eyes that was very noticeable to Remus who could only smother a grin of triumph, "Merope soon discovered she was pregnant."

All attention snapped back to Harry and his story with an almost tangible sound, causing him to fight back a laugh, "A child made from a love potion induced relationship?" Remus asked in shock.

Harry held up a hand to stave off any further questions and urging them to wait as he continued, "Knowing she was pregnant, and cushioned by years of fictitious bliss Merope began weaning Riddle off of the love potion – you see she believed that in their time together Riddle may have come to actually love her, and that it would be sealed with the knowledge of his child growing in her womb."

"But that's not what happened, is it?" Frodo asked, leaning into Sam who hesitantly threw an arm around his Master's shoulders with a blush.

Harry leaned back on his hands once more with a sad smile, only to tense up minutely when he felt Strider's warmth at his back. Feeling his chest tightening with panic Harry went to pull away a bit but before he could he was surprised by the warm hand that landed on his shoulder to pull him back to rest on the Ranger. Frozen in place, Harry forced himself to tilt his head back to rest on Strider's shoulder so he could meet the other Man's hypnotizing gaze.

"That cannot be a comfortable position to keep," Strider said with a kind smile, "You may lean back on me until you wish to move."

 _Oh, sure – until you want to move, he says. Hope he's willing to stay here forever, then_ a traitorous voice in Harry's mind chimed up sounding suspiciously like a familiar sharp-faced, blond-haired ferret. Smothering it, but unable to prevent the blush that shot warmth across his cheeks and nose Harry could only nod as he cleared his throat.

"Thanks," he fought the urge to slap himself for how husky his voice came out and quickly snapped his attention back to the Hobbits across the fire only for his blush to deepen at their wide grins.

Already having an idea of how Remus would be staring at him, Harry avoided meeting his honorary Uncle's eyes as he went to begin speaking again, though he didn't remove himself from where he leaned back against Strider's chest despite shouting at himself to do so.

"Anyway," he said in a voice that was a bit louder than it needed be, "Frodo guessed quite correctly, but with the amount of love potion Merope had been feeding Riddle it took months for him to return to normal, and her hope for his true love grew. By the time he was completely weaned from it, she was quite far along though still not quite showing through the dresses she wore and completely sure she held his love. Riddle quickly proved her wrong as the first thing he did was share his disgust and leave, unaware of the unborn child he left behind with her – frankly, I don't think he would have cared if he had known."

It was a grim silence that he was left with as he took another swig of water and Remus stood to begin his perimeter check once more, already knowing what came next. With his legs once more on the ground, Harry was faced with a decision to make – continue to lean on Strider as his feelings begged him, or sit up once more as the more rational side of him demanded.

What was he thinking? Shaking his head mentally, Harry realized there wasn't a decision to make. There was only one choice – sit up. He couldn't continue to raise hopes that shouldn't exist or give in to feelings that should be smothered, right? Right.

Mind made up, Harry moved to sit up once more into the meditative pose he had started the tale in only to be stopped when a small body landed atop him. Staring down in shock he was met with the wide, innocent blue eyes of Merry, "Sam and Pip are hogging Frodo. Can I lay on you?" he asked in a quiet tone and with hopeful eyes.

One glance across the fire saw Frodo leaning back on Sam, who still had an arm wrapped around his Master and a blush on his cheeks. Pippin was practically sprawled across Frodo, who was staring down at his young cousin in fond amusement while running fingers through the riotous auburn curls to remove any tangles.

Harry knew when he was being manipulated, and this was a manipulation if he had ever seen one. But, as he was sure the Hobbits were aware, he had a weak spot for each of them in a different way – with Merry, it was practically impossible to deny the Halfling any form of affection, especially when he _asked_ for it. With a small glare and a snort, Harry allowed himself to relax back into Strider reluctantly so he could embrace Merry more comfortably. This also had the unfortunate – _such a liar, scarhead. Shut up, ferret_ – effect of having Strider's arms wrap around Harry's waist to keep them both stable and comfortable.

"So what happened to the unborn babe and Merope?" Strider's deep voice next to his ear had Harry smothering a shiver that was making its way up his spine into his limbs.

Mentally slapping himself and telling himself to get it together, Harry focused back on the one thing that wasn't driving him completely bonkers – the story.

"Merope was heartbroken, but she knew she had to stick around long enough to give her last connection to her love a chance to live. She lived through the last few months of the pregnancy, though she almost did not make it. When it came time for the birth of the baby, she had him on the stoop of an orphanage with only its caretaker as company. She lived long enough to name the babe – Thomas after her love, Marvolo after a father that despite being her jailor she still loved, Riddle after the family she had wished to be a part of. With that, she died."

There was a moment of silence for the woman, though she had passed so long ago and was from another world. Before it could go on too long, Harry continued his story.

"The baby was left to the same orphanage to be raised. He did not have an easy childhood to be sure – you see strange things happened around this boy, things that couldn't be explained. What no one knew, but a mother long gone, was that the boy had magic. The strange happenings were caused by what is known as accidental magic in my world – the developing magic of a child reacts to their emotions and is still yet untamed so it can lash out," a darkness came over Harry's eyes as he continued, "So Tom was bullied and teased for this and many other things out of his control, but it is Tom's reaction to it that makes him stand out. You see Tom was quite smart and learned very quickly how to hone his wild powers – though he didn't know it's name or purpose – and was quick to use them against those he viewed as slighting him. And when he learned he could understand and speak to snakes it just became another weapon against those who were against him."

He paused to drink and soothe his dry mouth and throat when he realized the wide, horrified eyes trained on him. Chuckling, Harry lowered the water skin, "I thought you would realize this story would not have a particularly happy ending considering the topic that brought us to it," he said, raising an amused eyebrow.

Rolling their eyes at his teasing, far too used to it, the Hobbits waved for him to continue. Letting out one more chuckle, Harry did as asked, "As Remus mentioned earlier today, those with magic were tasked with attending a school at the age of eleven at which they could learn magic and of their world if they were born of non-magicals," seeing nods, Harry continued, "Well, Tom soon reached his eleventh birthday and with it came a elder wizard – Albus Dumbledore – who taught at this school. With him he brought the letter that would explain the school to Tom and provide him with a list of supplies he would need for the year to come."

As Merry moved atop him to get more comfortable, Harry shifted with him which consequently moved him further into Strider's unintentional embrace. Cursing the Hobbit in his arms in every language he could remember, he pushed down the blush and continued as if unaffected, "So Tom went to Hogwarts – the name of the magical school for that area – where he was Sorted into his House for the rest of his time there."

"What do you mean House, Master Harry?" Sam asked his cheeks finally back to their normal color only to flare up once again as Frodo snuggled into his shoulder unconsciously.

Snickering mentally at his friend's plight, Harry explained, "At Hogwarts there are four Houses, or groupings of students. These groupings determine what time the student will attend their classes, on what teams they will participate in sports, and how rewards are doled out at the school. The Houses had names: Gryffindor for those who sought adventure blindly and courageously, Ravenclaw for those who sought knowledge from book or person, Hufflepuff for those who sought friendships and loyalty, and finally Slytherin for those who sought a place to belong and achieve their ambitions."

"What weird names," Frodo said softly, fighting down a yawn knowing the moment Harry saw they would all be off to sleep, "What House was Tom sorted into?" he asked.

Harry shot him a knowing look, having already caught the yawn but allowing the Hobbit to get away with it for now, "Slytherin."

"Makes sense," Merry said though his voice was a bit muffled from where he had buried his face in Harry's tunic across the Man's chest, "Didn't you say earlier in the story that he descended from a Slytherin?"

Harry rubbed the Hobbit's back with a smile, "Not just a Slytherin, Merry, _the_ Slytherin. But I digress – Tom was sorted into Slytherin House and as years past Hogwarts became more like home to Tom than the orphanage had ever been. He had finally found somewhere to belong – or so he thought. You see, Slytherin House over the years had begun to become the House for the majority of purebloods who adhered to the disgust of those born of non-magicals and non-magicals themselves – so Tom, who comes from the non-magical world with no idea of his parentage, was not welcomed warmly."

At this point Remus returned only to pause on the edge of camp to take in the sight before him with a large grin. Harry was leaning back against Strider between the Man's legs – quite an intimate position from an outsider's perspective – with Merry lying across Harry's chest. The sight of Sam snuggled up with Frodo who held Pippin caused the lupine smile that had slipped onto his lips to grow and his tongue to loll out as he panted happily. Things were looking up despite the darkness that hung over their heads still. Feeling the ghosts of memories of dark times past begin to rattle their chains, Remus quickly shook his head and moved forward to join them.

Keeping his wolf form, Remus made his way over to curl up against Harry's side between the younger man and the fire. He gave a huge heaving sigh of contentment as Merry and Harry's familiar fingers began weaving their way through his pelt, untangling twigs and leaves while scratching at particularly itchy spots without having to be prompted.

Grinning widely down at his Uncle with obvious love in his gaze, Harry continued, "This did not last long, as the moment they learned of his gift to speak to snakes they quickly realized he was the Heir to Slytherin. Realizing that must mean one of his parents had to have been magic born, Tom tracked down every source he could get his hands on to learn of the Slytherin line and the father he thought had given him his power and gift – for he thought surely if his mother had been magical she would have lived to raise him."

By now the moon was ascending higher into the sky and the sun was finally beneath the horizon, so the shadows stretched and the fire's glow seemed brighter. Shadows danced along their forms and the ground to the silent song of nature with only a crackle of wood and a whisper of wind through the leaves of the surrounding trees hinting to its tune.

"Now I'll skip to Tom's fifth year where he has become twisted by constant denials of staying at the one place he'd felt he belonged and a growing hatred of non-magicals grew. The year where he became someone of power within the school – someone meant to uphold rules and protect those younger than him. The year he found a secret Chamber rumored to have been left by his ancestor with a beast that was said to have been left to kill the magical children of non-magicals and the very non-magicals he despised. He let the beast – a Basilisk, an ancient snake that can kill with a stare and petrify with its reflection – loose. Unbeknownst to him, there was a girl there who had been crying at the cruel words of her peers who met its gaze and died. With her death came the threat of his sanctuary's closing, so Tom sealed the chamber and blamed the murder on an innocent half-giant who had a bit of an unhealthy fascination with dangerous creatures – and thus Tom's soul began to crack."

Horror filled eyes watched him over the dancing flames, only able to distinguish the glowing pools of his eyes as they reflected his power and the firelight, "As the years passed Tom amassed many followers among his fellow students as he learned how to say what they wanted to hear. He was quite a charming and charismatic fellow, and had the good looks to go along with it. And with the passing of years, his fear of death grew as did his fascination with immortality."

Harry turned his eyes heavenward, watching as the stars seemed to burst into existence before his gaze, "He used these charms on a susceptible teacher who told him the method in which to make what he sought – the method for making a Horcrux," gasps of realization met his ears, but he didn't tear his gaze from the constellations above him, "But Tom did not want just one, oh no Tom was far more ambitious than that. Tom wanted seven – a magical number that when paired with the method of a Horcrux was sure to cement his immortality for sure."

With a heavy sigh, Harry turned back to the quietly horrified audience he had captivated, "What really lead to Tom's fear of death and need for immortality was the discovery that his mother was in fact the magical that lead to the inheritance of his Slytherin heritage and his father was actually the non-magical. With hatred in his heart – for can a child born from a love potion truly know love? – Tom set out and killed his father and grandparents without care, blaming it upon an Uncle he never truly knew and creating his first Horcrux in the form of his diary."

Pausing to take a drink and let what he had said sink in, Harry moved an arm to wrap around Remus and pull the wolf closer to his side, hand coming to rest on the wolf's side – only in need of the comfort his godfather's presence provided. The silence stretched before it was finally broken by Pippin.

"Why would Morfin let himself be accused of killing Tom's non-magical family?" he asked.

Harry turned his head to look at Pippin across the fire, "A mixture of reasons, Pip. You see before he killed his non-magical family, Tom visited his Uncle – Marvolo was long dead by this time – and stole the ring that denoted their family standing and ancestry while weaving a mixture of spells that convinced Morfin that he had in fact killed the Riddles. But Morfin was by no means sane and Tom could have easily not visited his Uncle, and Morfin would still have agreed with the accusations of killing the Riddles."

The youngest Hobbit nodded with a thoughtful look on his face. Harry waited patiently and his patience was rewarded as Pippin opened his mouth to ask another question, "But that was only one Horcrux, and you said Tom wanted to make seven?" he asked.

Harry nodded, "And he did over time. The next to gain a piece of his soul was the ring he stole from his Uncle – he killed one of the bullies from his orphanage years. Then he went on the hunt for items that came from the founders of the school where he had first felt he belonged. He discovered Slytherin's locket – something that had belonged to his mother before she had left to be with the elder Tom Riddle. Next he found Hufflepuff's cup – killing its owner and blaming it on her servant. By now he had applied for a teaching position at his old school, where Albus Dumbledore had taken over as the leader of the school, and he hid yet another of his Horcruxes – Ravenclaw's diadem – within Hogwarts walls. Denied, Tom was enraged and cursed the teaching position he'd been refused – only allowing the position to be filled for a year before it would be vacated by death or circumstance."

Shaking his head, Harry sighed, "That curse would last even through my time at Hogwarts," he said in memory, poking Remus's side as he spoke up, "Remus here fell prey to it, in fact," he grinned down at the wolf who nipped his ear in rebuttal.

Harry quickly returned to his original tale – unconsciously moving with Strider as the Ranger adjusted his position and leading to the two Men to be pressed even closer together – with only a laugh in response, "Anyway, after he was denied what he saw as his rightful place in Hogwarts he took another name – Voldemort which means "flight of death" in another language from out world – to shed himself of the non-magical name that connected him to his father of the same name. He quickly amassed a larger following than the one he had gained in his school years – who would all come to be known as Death Eaters. Together they would terrorize the magical world and the non-magicals – torturing and killing wherever they went. It got to be so bad that people even began to fear saying Tom's new name, Voldemort – the public began to call him things such as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and You-Know-Who."

Strider felt disgust and a bit of sadness for the young boy that had been twisted so into a dark, evil man who could kill and split his soul so easily. Then he realized, "You have only listed five of these Horcruxes," he said, feeling Harry shiver and drawing him closer – it was quite chilly out and the tale was obviously taking a toll on the Man leaning against him.

Internally cursing at the Man who held him for being so damn attractive and insisting on speaking directly into his ear while also thanking whatever god he could think of that the Man was oblivious to his effect on Harry, the wizard quickly spoke, "Indeed I have, good catch Strider."

For unknown reasons Strider felt tempted to reveal his true name just to hear Harry say it, but quickly shook such foolish thoughts away in confused frustration, "What of the other two, then?" he asked, forcing himself to focus on Harry's tale.

Harry remained silent for a time, but this pause was heavier and far more haunted then the others had been. You only had to stare into the eerily, dulled green pools of Harry's eyes to have it confirmed.

Finally, he spoke, but this time it was in a low tone that was almost a whisper – yet it still carried through the clearing to their ears as if he was speaking directly into them, "At the height of his reign of terror a prophecy was made – it told of a child with the power to vanquish Voldemort who would be _born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives_ -," for some reason those last words held more power and had a haunting quality to them, sending a shiver down every listener's spine.

Harry stared unseeingly up at the stars, unaware of his fingers clutching at Remus's fur or the cool nose pressed into his cheek in comfort, "Two children fit the prophecy – their parents had defied Voldemort three times each and their children were born at the end of July. The first pair, Alice and Frank Longbottom, would have a son born late at night on July 30th whom they would name Neville. The second pair, Lily and James Potter, would have a son born at midnight of July 31st whom they would name Harry."

The Hobbits let out horrified gasps and Harry soon found himself beneath a pile of small bodies as they all tried to hold onto some part of him. Feeling the chill that had been encroaching into his mind and body dissipate beneath the fumbling care and warmth they gave unwittingly, Harry gave a small smile filled with the warmth of his love for these small creatures that had quickly found their ways into his barricaded heart and then refused to leave.

Holding them all close, he was unaware of the silent conversation going on between Remus and Strider as the wolf explained to the Ranger that Harry was in fact the same Harry Potter from the tale.

When they had all settled more comfortably – Merry had refused to give up his place in the center of Harry's chest but was willing to share with Pippin, Frodo took the other side of Merry on Harry's chest with Sam at his back, Remus was at Pippin's back with Harry's arm wrapped around him again, and Strider at Harry's back. Snorting at the thought of how odd they must look to anyone who might peer into the clearing, Harry quickly went back to finishing the story.

"So the two families went into hiding, but it would not save them. Alice and Frank were tortured into insanity by some of Tom's most loyal followers and their son was left with a strict grandmother who did not know how to express love. Lily and James were betrayed by a dear friend, and ended up dying to protect their son from Tom himself. James fell first trying to give his wife and son time to escape, and Lily died standing between Tom's wand and her baby boy begging for his life," the only sign of the depth of Harry's pain was the slight shake to his voice which to this point had been smooth and easy.

Strider's arm tightened as Harry carried on, the Ranger could not help but admire the Man in his arms' strength, "Tom then turned his wand to kill the babe, but something went wrong. Instead of killing the child, the curse that had served him so well on his way to immortality rebounded and destroyed his body and left his intended victim scarred and famous for the death of his parents."

There was a moment of silence – for the loss of Harry's parents as well as for Harry to gather himself enough to continue. After a moment, the Man did, "Of course, because of his Horcruxes, Voldemort was never truly gone and strove to find a way back into a physical body. He would eventually come back to the unknown loss of one of his Horcruxes – the diary – and create what he thought was the sixth, a snake he would name Nagini."

Relieved that he was coming to the end of his story, Harry extracted an arm from the pile he found himself beneath to take another drink from his water skin only to find it empty. With a sigh, he considered standing to get another one or filling it with magic – while magic seemed more convenient he had found over time that the water that was given from _Aguamenti_ was never quite as thirst-quenching as water gotten from a stream. The problem was solved when a calloused hand from behind him took his water skin and replaced it with another.

Turning, he met the mesmerizing cyan orbs he had been avoiding all night and for some reason couldn't remember quite _why_ he had been avoiding them, "Thank you," he said, low enough to only be heard by the Man – and the wolf that was shamelessly listening in.

With a smile that brought out the wrinkles by his eyes and make him look younger all at once, Strider nodded. Quickly turning back around and drinking the water – and nearly choking on it due to his haste – Harry was reminded just why he hadn't turned to look at Strider since the beginning of his tale. Why did he need these romantic feelings? Why couldn't he just cut them out like before?

He was brought from his brooding when Merry's voice spoke up loudly by his ear, "Hey, wait a moment, 'Ry! Nag-whatever would have been Tom's sixth Horcrux, wouldn't it?" he asked, causing the others to turn to Harry expectantly bar Remus.

Snorting, Harry raised a brow, "Would she now?" he asked, smiling mysteriously, "Are you sure of that Mer?" he asked.

Everyone sat silently, thinking over the last bit of the story they had just been told – getting more and more frustrated as time passed. Finally, it was Frodo to get it – unsurprising as he had shared his Uncle Bilbo's love for riddles and puzzles.

"You were the sixth," he said in quiet horror, turning wide blue eyes onto the Man that had become like an older brother to the Hobbit as they had grown together through the years.

All eyes, but Remus's turned to Harry in dawning realization and consequent horror. The following death grip from each Hobbit left the young Man quite flattered to be honest, but he could only laugh now as it was so long ago since he had come to that horrific realization himself and worked out what he would have to do to be rid of it.

Patting each Hobbit on the back in comfort and resting his chin on top of Pippin's head where the tween had smashed his face into Harry's neck, Harry resigned himself to being the Hobbits' pillow for the rest of the night. He regretted resting his chin there almost instantly when his head was knocked backwards and pain seared up through his jaw from where Pippin had head butted him when the young tween's head had popped up.

With watering eyes he looked down to see Pippin cradling the top of his own head, but staring determinedly at Harry with eyes narrowed in pain, "Yes, Pippin?" Harry said, while moving his jaw around in an attempt to lessen the pain there.

"You said the diary one was destroyed, right? Does that mean there's a way to get rid of Horcruxes?" the tween asked, still rubbing the top of his head more annoyed with the pain now then anything.

Snorting, Harry reached up to run his fingers through the tween's curls and brushed them gently over the bump he found where the tween had been rubbing. Letting magic run through his fingertips with a tingling excitement that never left him when he used it, Harry rolled his eyes fondly, "And you had to hurt the both of us to ask that?" he asked with a teasing lilt to his tone.

Pippin's blush started at the tips of his ears before going down to cover his cheeks and nose before he scrunched said appendage and stuck his tongue out at the Man beneath him, "Well?" he asked – Harry half expected him to place his hands on his hips, "Is there a way to get rid of them?"

Chuckling, Harry nodded, "There were a couple that we stumbled upon. In the case of the objects, it came down to Basilisk venom – a poison with no cure but the rare, freely given tears of a phoenix – or rather a sword that became infused with Basilisk venom when a particularly stubborn twelve-year-old stabbed it through the mouth of an ancient Basilisk," Harry gave a wry smile as he continued, "As for the Horcrux that was hosted inside of me," Harry paused to turn his gaze back to the constellations, smile becoming a bit bitter now, "well, standing willingly before the curse that put it there quickly had me rid of it."

A nip to his fingers quickly brought him back, and he looked down at Remus to tell him off only to pause at the serious look in the wolf's golden orbs, _Harry, the sword._

Harry lay confused for a moment before his eyes widened in realization and quickly glanced down to where his sword was hidden beneath the mass of Hobbit's atop him.

Needing to move, Harry quickly extracted himself from Strider's hold and from beneath the Hobbits to begin pacing. Strider clenched his fists and brought his arms in closer to his side to fight off the sudden chill that filled him and seemed to pierce deeper than ever before where Harry had been leaning against him. The Hobbits – far too used to their friend's abrupt need to move around when trying to figure something difficult out – merely lay where they had landed watching Harry slip in and out of the fire's light to move from one edge of the campsite to the next.

After quite a few laps he finally stopped with a huff and began to rub his brow as he spoke, "It won't work," he glared out into the darkness, eyes glinting jade in frustration at the need for Frodo to continue being exposed to the cursed bauble that had started this, "Because of the way the damned thing was made, it can only be destroyed where it was made – or rather with what it was made with. I think at this point, the Basilisk venom would just piss it off," he said, rubbing aggressively at his eyes before letting his hands scrub down his face.

Before anyone could ask any further questions, Remus's head snapped up and his ears began twisting maniacally atop his head. After a few tense moments, everyone began to relax when suddenly both Remus and Harry's heads turned in the same direction – Remus jumped to his feet with hackles raised and Harry had already drawn his sword.

 _"Something's coming,"_ they said, eyes glowing with power and piercing the darkness that lay between them and whatever approached their camp.

* * *

 _ **Well I hope it was well worth the wait. I will try my best to post again soon, but won't make any promises or give myself a timeline – it never seems to work out when I do.**_

 _ **Please review and tell me what you think! Can't wait to hear from you!**_

 _ **And thanks once more to all of you who stuck with me through that dry spell!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**DeRanged: I apologize for the late update – I recently have started working night shifts so my schedule is a bit f'ed up to say the least. I will be trying to update sooner this next round, but really we'll see how that goes. Thankfully it is summer so we can all cross our fingers that it won't take me another f'ing year or two to update again. Anyway, thank you to those who have been sticking with me and reviewing – those really help my motivation to update, so keep them coming. Please!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter, because if I had I would look at either storyline and – like a YouTuber I quite enjoy (Thomas Sanders) would say – I would go "could be gayer" and promptly make most of the characters gay.**_

 _ **Enjoy the update!...Hopefully.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Six: An Introduction**

Before the others could react Remus shot off into the brush as if swallowed by the shadows with Harry close behind – all they were really left with was Harry's shouted words:

"Stay here!"

Sam quickly grabbed the nearest thing to him – which just happened to be one of his frying pans – while scrambling to his feet in front of his Master Frodo, holding it before him like the weapon he intended it to be. Pippin and Merry, however, lunged towards where they had all piled their packs and pulled their swords before moving to stand on either side of Sam, Frodo behind them all. All four faced the edge of their camp where their friends had disappeared, ready for anything.

Strider was torn between staying to protect Frodo and the others or following the two Istari into the wood – he had promised Gandalf to watch Frodo, but he had grown to respect the two Men that accompanied them on their journey. Could he really leave them to face this unknown enemy alone – especially if it was the Nazgul caught up with them?

"You shouldn't worry about them," Frodo's quiet voice broke Strider from his internal conflict, "They've taken care of themselves in far worse situations, it seems."

Before Strider could formulate a response a sword tip poking into his back had him freezing and standing straighter, his muscles tensed in preparation to move at even the smallest opening from this unknown enemy.

"What's this? A Ranger off his guard?" the words were said softly, but the voice niggled at something in Strider's memory.

Before he could turn or even try to distinguish where he had heard the voice before he heard Merry speaking nearby, "Why should he be the only one on guard?"

What Strider hadn't seen was the young Hobbit walking silently behind the Elvin woman with Pippin to place their swords at her back threateningly. Not long after Harry and Remus came from the underbrush behind them – Remus had obviously returned to the shape of Man since he and Harry left the clearing – both with sword in hand and dangerous glint in their eyes.

"After all, he isn't alone is he?" Pippin said, the only sign of his nerves was the slight trembling of the hand which he quickly hid behind his back – wouldn't do for the possible enemy to see his fear.

Remus made his way to Merry's side and placed a warm hand on the Halfling's shoulder offering his support and silently showing his pride – Harry was doing the same for Pippin on the other side while he spoke, "No, he is not alone."

Strider felt the sword tip leave his back and quickly turned to see his "assailant" only to fight down a smile at the image of the usually composed Arwen held at sword point by two Hobbits barely half her size.

"It seems I am not the only one with my guard down, Arwen," the teasing was obvious in his tone as his eyes shone with amusement.

Arwen's own lips twitched with answering humor, "So it seems, _Estel_ , so it seems," she said, allowing her sword to drop to the clearing ground and raising her hands to show them empty.

"Do you know her, Strider?" Remus asked, though he had yet to remove his gaze from the Elf who was held at sword point.

"Aye, I know her well Remus," Strider said with a gentle smile towards the two Men and Halflings behind Arwen, "This is the Lady of Rivendell, and daughter to Lord Elrond."

By now Merry and Pippin had lowered their blades at Harry's nod and moved to stand by Frodo again – Remus was proud to see that they kept their blades in hand and that none of the three had moved from their protective stances over Frodo. Neither he nor Harry had sheathed their blades either, but they did step back to give the Lady Elf the appearance of space.

"Arwen," Strider was a bit confused at the Men's response to her, but continued with introductions, "These are my traveling companions – we are on our way to Rivendell."

Arwen nodded regally towards the four Hobbits and two Men, before turning to Strider in obvious dismissal to speak in her native tongue, _"Am I merely Lady of Rivendell and my Father's daughter to you, Estel?"_ she said in a teasing, light tone, _"And what has slowed your pace? You should have been at the gates by now – even going at a Halfling's pace"_ she said, only he could see the small crease of worry that marred her brow.

Once again Strider was interrupted before he could respond, _"It is rude to speak in a tongue that not all present can understand My Lady,"_ Harry said in fluent Elvish, finally sheathing his sword and making his way to where Frodo stood surrounded by the other three, "And quite naïve if you believe no one but Strider understands it," he spoke in Westorn this time.

Remus shook his head in amused exasperation, though his gaze narrowed at the She-Elf's first words to Strider – why should the Man know her as anything else? Dread began to pool in his stomach as he glanced quickly in Harry's direction where the young Man had nudged Frodo into sitting on his sleeping mat again – had he pushed his cub towards a Man already promised to another? With a sigh he realized there wasn't much he could do if he had, all he could really do was be there to support Harry in the inevitable fall out – with this decided he sheathed his own blade and made his way towards his smaller friends.

Oblivious to his honorary uncle's turmoil, Harry had Frodo begin removing his vest and shirt so he could check the Halfling's wound. He removed the bandages covering the wound and set them aside. As he eyeballed the wound and ran the back of his fingers along the edges looking for any swelling or unexplained heat, he began to ask the Hobbit questions in low, soothing tones.

"Felt any dizziness, or headaches?" A hesitant nod was his answer.

"Hm, any pain?" Another nod, though this one was a bit more confident in delivery.

"If you had to gage it on a scale, with one being no pain and ten being the worst pain you've felt -?" A small hand holding up five fingers had Harry nodding his head in understanding and turning to Remus, "Could you get me the mild pain potion and maybe some of the antibiotic ointment?"

Remus nodded and quickly pulled out the small sac from around his neck once more while Arwen gazed on in confusion. Strider had come over to watch Harry in curiosity, hoping to learn more from this Man's unique healing techniques.

Harry ignored all this and continued prodding gently at Frodo's stitched wound, "Now is it a constant pain?" He got a shake of the head this time, "So does it come and go?"

Frodo shrugged and waved his hand back and forth in the air in a so-so gesture he had seen Remus and Harry doing, "Only if I move too quickly – it pulls on the stitches and aches a bit," he said.

Harry nodded satisfied, turning when Remus tapped him on the shoulder to accept the vial of pain reliever and the tub of ointment. He pulled out the cork on the vial with his teeth and handed it to Frodo with the instructions to "drink it all down, and try not to let it touch your tongue otherwise you'll be puking it up before it does any good" as he unscrewed the lid to the ointment. He balanced the ointment on his knee to quickly sterilize his hands before picking it up once more and beginning to spread it around the stitched wound.

He couldn't help but chuckle as Frodo wrinkled his nose at the smell of the potion before lifting it and knocking it back – trying to do as Harry asked and not let it touch his tongue.

"What has happened to the young Hobbit?" Arwen's voice reminded Strider of her presence and he turned with Remus to see concern lighting her ageless gaze.

Remus merely returned his attention to Harry and his small charges, leaving Strider to explain as it seemed Arwen liked him more.

"The Ringwraiths caught up to us at Amon Sul," Strider said in a low tone, though unable to tear his gaze from Harry's kneeling form, "Frodo was stabbed by a Morgul blade -," Arwen's horrified gasp cut off whatever else he was going to say.

"What?" her hands went to her lips, "Why have you set up camp when he is wounded so? The pace you've set – he's probably already a wraith by now," she said, turning a distrusting gaze to Frodo only to be met by a surprisingly harsh glare from the Halfling.

"He is obviously in good health outside of a little pain, which is understandable as he was _stabbed_ ," Strider couldn't help but be surprised with how cold Remus's tone was, even when the Man distrusted the Ranger his tone had been respectful and warm, "And what's all this nonsense about 'already being a wraith'?"

Harry was curious as to the answer as well, though he listened to the interactions as he continued to work, "The blade that the Ringwraith stabbed Frodo with is a cursed one – those who are stabbed with it either become wraiths themselves because of the lingering darkness of the blade, or they suffer because the remaining darkness inside them will slowly chip away at their health," Strider spoke in a grave tone, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Harry work.

Harry hummed as he washed the ointment from his fingers with the soap and bowl of water Remus had summoned for him, "That would explain why the blade fought me so," he said, oblivious to the gazes of those around him, "but there is no darkness lingering within Frodo, I made sure of that," here he turned and winked at the weary Hobbit, clean bandages in his hands.

Frodo slumped a bit only to wince and sit up straight as his stitches pulled a bit, give Harry a sheepish smile when the Man tapped his head in a soft reprimand. The other three Hobbits and Remus looked relieved themselves at the news – they had all grown more tense as Strider explained the blade that had stabbed their friend.

"That is impossible!" Arwen's voice was harsh – and from the look of shock Strider sent her way, it seemed she had never used such a tone before, "Only Elves can heal such wounds and even they could not remove the darkness completely," her brow was wrinkled and Remus was slightly surprised she hadn't turned her nose up at them.

Harry paused in his wrapping to look up to the stars in exasperation, "Why do you Elves always believe that you know everything there is to know?" he said almost thoughtfully to himself.

He was completely oblivious to the glares the four Hobbits were shooting the She-Elf over his shoulder and head – even gentle Sam seemed to be trying to throw daggers at her with his eyes. Strider himself was shocked at Arwen's reaction – generally she seemed so calm and gentle, this seemed so similar to the children he'd seen in Men's towns throwing a tantrum because they were denied what they wanted. Remus was biting his tongue and struggling not to let the words of vitriol on the tip of it escape – he could swear he almost heard Sirius cheering him on and Severus offering up more words he could use.

It was Frodo who ended up breaking the silence that had fallen, "I feel fine – I don't feel any of the coldness Strider was speaking about. The only thing I feel is the pulling from the stitches and the slight tingle from the ointment," his words were soft, but seemed to carry more power because of it.

"An' Master Harry would never lie about somethin' that could hurt Master Frodo," Sam said, putting his hands on his hips and talking to Arwen very much like he would if he were reprimanding Pippin, "He and Master Frodo are like family."

Merry and Pippin were nodding along while crossing their arms and continuing to glare up at the She-Elf as they went to stand on either side of Harry – almost protectively. It was quite amusing actually as they had yet to put down their swords.

Remus didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the situation – laugh at such small beings trying to intimidate and reprimand an _Elf_ of all things, or cry because his godson had so many people to come to his defense now. Shaking his head, the former werewolf walked over to place a warm hand on Frodo's curls and smile down at him when the Hobbit glanced up curious.

Strider himself felt a bit irritated on Harry's behalf and a bit hurt that Arwen would think so lowly of his intelligence – did she really think he would be dawdling if Frodo's life were truly in danger? Pushing his confusing thoughts aside for now, he spoke up, "I watched Harry heal Frodo myself – the methods he used-," he shook his head, "Are nothing I've seen before, and I doubt Lord Elrond has."

Arwen stood shocked as these beings – far younger than her – for all intents and purposes, reprimanded her. Even Estel – and all for this mortal _boy_ who claimed to do what even her Father could not. Shaking herself mentally, she brought herself to her full height – Remus was amused to see her chin tilt up slightly which put her pert nose higher into the air – and spoke, "You have five wraiths waiting for you at the entrance of Rivendell – where the other four are, I know not."

Harry ignored her and finished wrapping Frodo's shoulder while Remus watched on, the Hobbits just took their cue from them – unknown to the wizards the Hobbits had come to a unanimous agreement that the two would be the leaders in this new adventure because of their knowledge of the world outside the Shire. Strider tensed a bit at the news, but quickly calmed when he saw the two Men beside him had not panicked – he may not have known them as long as the Halflings, but he had learned in a short time just how protective the two were of their smaller friends. If they were not preparing to defend the Halflings from the very shadows, then they had a plan or were confident in their current safety.

"You can dress again Frodo – should be good for the rest of the day and into tomorrow," Harry said, sitting back on his haunches to smile at his friend.

Arwen fought the urge to gape, irritation flaring brighter, "Did you not hear me?" she sounded like someone who was very used to people stopping to listen to what she had to say, "We must get Frodo and the Ring into Rivendell."

Harry finally turned to the She-Elf and raised a brow, "Yes," he drew out the word slowly, as if questioning her sanity for stating something so obvious, "What did you want me to do, Lady Arwen, leave his healing wound untreated so he could get an infection before he reached the gates? Isn't your father a well-known healer?" his tone revealed that he thought she knew better.

Remus was fighting so hard not to snicker – he could practically hear Sirius and Severus's ghosts cheering their godson on from the afterlife, the boy was practically channeling the elder Slytherin – as he spoke up, "Besides that, Frodo and the others are Hobbits – light on their feet they may be, but fast they are not," ignoring Pippin and Merry's indignant shouts, Remus continued, "And if you wish to take only Frodo, then how do you expect to travel? Especially as – you said – there are five wraiths waiting at the entrance. You cannot expect to fight five of them off _and_ defend Frodo," he said.

From the blush on Arwen's high cheekbones, that is exactly what she had planned, "I rode here -," she started, but was cut off by Harry who had finally stood.

"So have the Nazgul," he said, tilting his head in a manner very similar to his wolf Animagus, "What is so different about your steed that it can outrun their demonic beasts?" he asked.

Strider watched the byplay with curiosity – he was seeing a side of Arwen he had never known existed, but as he continued to watch he realized that side had always been there. He wanted to stand up for the woman he loved, but he knew Harry was right – even Elvish horses had no hope against the Nazgul's steeds. And when the wraiths caught up – and there was no doubt in his mind that they would – Arwen would be alone in defending herself as well as Frodo.

"Then what do you suggest, traveler?" Arwen did not like this Man that spoke to her in such a manner, "We stand here and wait for them?" she started to smirk, thinking she had won.

Rolling his eyes at her dramatics, Harry turned his back on her to speak to Remus in a low voice, "Would you mind taking my pack?" he asked, nodding to where he had placed it near the pony who had been grazing peacefully throughout the interaction.

Remus already having some idea of what his godson was up to, nodded, "Shouldn't be much of a problem," he said shrugging, "Are you sure about this, though? You'll have to carry her as well as Frodo?"

Harry gave a careless half-shrug as he rolled his shoulders, "They're supposed to have strength similar to phoenixes right?" he said, fighting laughter at the outraged look on Remus's face.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Remus asked – demanded actually – looking about ready to pull out his hair.

"Both?" Harry made it a question just to irk the man before transforming before Strider and Arwen's shocked gazes into his Griffin form.

He was beautiful. At first glance he seemed to be completely black in color, but as the risen moon glinted off his feathers and fur they were able to see flashes of different colors each time as well as a patch of shocking white on his forehead and right front foreleg. His front legs ended in talons that looked like they were able to snap Strider's blade in their grip, and his beak was sharp and deadly looking in its own right. His back and hindquarters seemed soft and silky to the eye, but they ended in clawed feet that spoke of an equal danger to the front. His tail flicked about lazily ending in a tuft of fluffy, black fur and it always seemed to avoid brushing the grass beneath all their feet, but only just barely. The wings that he stretched and gave a cursory flap were an impressive eight feet from wingtip to wingtip. But the most breathtaking were his eyes – once emerald orbs were now iridescent and glowing with an unspoken power.

The great beast that stood in Harry's place turned to a smiling Frodo, _Ready to fly, my friend?_

"Finally going to let me?" Frodo asked, smile becoming a grin as he pushed himself to his feet with Sam's ever-faithful assistance.

Harry snorted – coming out as more of a clicking noise than anything – as he spoke to his small friend, _You were a tween the first time and I had Bilbo and Remus glaring at me across the dinner table! If you had asked again when they_ weren't _around I would have let you._

Frodo looked surprised as he walked over to his friend, ignoring the curious look Arwen was sending his way, "Really?"

"He's right," Remus said as he walked over and lifted Frodo up onto his godson's back, standing with his hands ready to catch the young Hobbit as he adjusted himself into a more comfortable position.

"So does that mean that when we get to Rivendell, we can get a ride too?" Pippin asked, running forward to stand in front of Harry with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, can we?" Merry came forward to join his cousin, making Harry huff and use his head to butt them each in the chest gently.

 _Do I look like a bloody pony?_ there was a teasing glint in Harry's ever-changing orbs.

"Beggin' your pardon, Master Harry, but you kinda do," Sam spoke up from where he had come to join Remus who promptly started laughing heartily.

Harry's head whipped around – nearly unseating a laughing Frodo – to stare at the usually genteel Hobbit in shock, _Et tu, Samwise?_

"You can't really speak of not being a pony, with a Hobbit already on your back whom you are planning to fly into Rivendell, Harry," Strider joined in as he was finally over his shock, walking forward with laughing blue eyes.

 _And Strider too,_ Harry made a mock-sorrowful trill, _Are you next, Moony?_ he turned to his honorary Uncle with an attempt at a puppy-dog eye.

Remus snorted, "They seem to be doing fine on their own," he said, winking at the Hobbits that had come to stand around him.

Somehow Harry managed to pull off a betrayed look before they all broke out into laughter – Frodo was practically lying across Harry's neck with tears of mirth filling his eyes. The only one who wasn't laughing was Arwen, who stood stiff while staring at Harry in shock.

Strider was the first to notice, "Arwen?" he stepped towards his lover, hand out and eyes glinting with worry.

The She-Elf practically flinched from his grip making the Ranger's eyes widen and glint with not only surprise, but hurt as well, "You speak as if you understand the beast," she said, looking between Strider and Harry.

Harry bristled at being called a beast as the Hobbits cried out their anger, Strider however was confused, "But I can understand him, Arwen," he looked between Remus, Harry, and the Hobbits in confusion, "As can they -," then he was struck by a thought, "Can you not hear him Arwen?" he asked.

"Of course not, _Estel_ ," Arwen said, crossing her arms, "He is an animal."

 _I am very much a Man, thank you Madam,_ Harry said, tail flicking about jerkily in his growing irritation.

The Lady jumped in shock, turning a wide gaze on Harry and meeting ageless orbs that had her glancing away within seconds.

Seeing Strider's confused gaze, Remus explained as Harry continued to stare Arwen down, "Unless we address someone in that form, then that person cannot understand us."

The Ranger nodded in understanding, though still a bit stung at Arwen's reaction to his attempt in touching her. She claimed to love him and yet acted as if he had murdered with his bare hands and reached to touch her with blood on his hands.

His thoughts were thankfully cut off by Harry's impatient voice, _Well, come on then – we're in a rush aren't we?_ his gaze was still on Arwen who was avoiding his gaze up until he spoke.

"What?" her eyes flew to his and he could read the horror in her gaze.

Harry tilted his head, _Unless the Nazgul can fly, this is the safest way into Rivendell,_ he spoke slowly, as if she would not be able to understand him otherwise.

She shook her head and took another step back, "I can ride -," she was cut off again by the huff the griffin let out before prowling towards her retreating form.

 _We don't have time for this,_ Harry said as he used his wing to wrap around the unsuspecting Elf and pull her into his side. He then reached his head around and pushed her onto his back with his head, uncaring for her weak protests or struggles. He crouched and gave a bit of jump to get her more firmly on his back – much to those watching's amusement she was laid across his back with arms and head on one side and feet on the other – before turning to his companions, _Stay safe._

Strider nodded, coming forward and place a hand on Harry's neck in hopes of reassuring the Man, "I will let nothing harm them," the Ranger said, eyes gazing into Harry's own to show his sincerity.

Harry was shocked before huffing in amusement and using his beak to bump the Man's chin, _Do not make a promise you may be unable to keep, Strider,_ he said, _but please do your best to get to Rivendell with yourself and them in one piece._

The Ranger rubbed his chin, but smiled in understanding towards the Man turned griffin while nodding. He stepped aside to let the others say their farewells, walking towards Harry's side to help Arwen sit up correctly as the She-Elf struggled to right herself.

Merry, Pippin, and Sam crowded around Harry's front and began speaking to Harry and Frodo at one time.

"We'll be seein' you real soon, Master Frodo, Master Harry. Safe flying."

"Merry and I get first ride after Frodo when we get to Rivendell, don't you forget!"

"Shove off, Pip – won't be a ride if they don't get to Rivendell safe, will there. Be safe, Harry, get yourself and Frodo to Rivendell."

"Oh! Right, stay safe Harry! Frodo!"

Rearing his head back at the initial onslaught, Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he rubbed his head against each of their cheeks reassuringly while Frodo spoke to reassure them. Remus finally pushed them aside so he could stand before Harry and search his boy's gaze.

Cupping a beaked face between his scarred, calloused palms, Remus spoke softly to the boy that had always been his boy, "You _will_ get to Rivendell, safely Harry James Potter," he said, amber eyes glinting gold and feral very similar to how they had when he had been transforming into a werewolf, "No stops, no idiotic heroics."

Harry leaned into his only remaining father-figure's hands, heart soaring at his concern and the obvious love in his gaze, _I promise, Remy – straight to Rivendell._

With that – much like he had with Strider – Harry butted his beak against the elder Man's chin. Remus smiled and leaned forward and kiss Harry's beak and grin up at Frodo, reaching around to pat his leg before he backed away to give his godson room to take off.

Gathering his strength about himself once more – this would be the first time since coming to Middle Earth that he and Remus would be separated – Harry forced himself to look away from his father-figure. Turning over his shoulder to look at his passengers – one delighted, yet weary Hobbit and an outraged Elf – he gave an inquiring chirrup, _Ready?_

Frodo gave him a courageous grin and Harry knew that if Arwen wasn't trying to rally her strength she would be looking down her nose disdainfully at him. Grinning internally, Harry turned back to face forwards – this would be interesting. Crouching forward, tail whipping about in excitement, Harry was suddenly sprinting towards the clearing line.

Hands suddenly were gripping at the feathers along the back of his neck at the sudden burst into speed and he gave a triumphant cry as he leapt above the trees right before he reached the edge of the clearing, wings giving a mighty flap that stirred the very leaves with a large gust. Soon enough they were soaring across the sky, his legs tucked against his belly, and tail dancing smugly in the air.

After a few minutes one of the grips on his feathers loosened, but one remained tight fisted, _Those feathers_ are _attached you know, which means pulling them out would be right painful._

"Sorry," Arwen's voice was soft on the wind and she loosened her grip minutely, but it still remained tight.

Frodo glanced at the Lady behind him in shock, "Are you afraid of flying, My Lady?" he asked, no hint of mocking in his tone.

Arwen swallowed and gave the Hobbit sitting before her a wobbling smile, "If the Valar had intended for us to fly, we would have been born with wings."

Harry laughed fondly, _You remind me of a friend I had growing up_ he told her, glancing briefly over his shoulder before turning to face forward once more, _She didn't like flying much either, but when needs must she would be the first in the air._

"What happened to her?" Arwen asked, tilting her head to have a better gaze at the griffin's face.

There was a brief pause before Harry spoke, _She died right after she returned to herself._

They were silent for a while before Arwen finally spoke up in Elvish, _"I am sorry for your loss, and for my actions earlier."_

Harry nearly froze, but forced himself to keep going lest they plummet to the earth below at her seemingly spontaneous apology. Turning to look at her, Harry saw true remorse and shame in her eyes.

Returning his gaze to the open sky before him, he responded, _Change is difficult, as is facing the unknown – I don't blame you for your reactions in the clearing, nor do I hold any grudges. If you need my forgiveness, however, then you have it._

Arwen was surprised at the Man's quick forgiveness, but was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, _"Thank you,"_ she said, before switching to Westorn as she asked, "So how is it you are able to transform into such a magnificent beast, Harry?"

Harry was a bit confused as to why she continued to speak to him, until he noticed she avoided looking around or down – she was trying to distract herself form the fact they were in the air! Chuckling a bit, Harry gave another mighty beat of his wings to find another air current to carry them closer to Rivendell, _I am a wizard, or what this world calls an Istari._

Arwen's gaze shot once more to the top of her carrier's head – an Istari? And he had forgiven her horrible manners of before? She had never known an Istari who would forgive such things easily, not even Gandalf would have forgiven her actions in the clearing. She feared her father's reaction when she returned home – for no doubt he would discover it, you could hide nothing from the Lord of Rivendell's gaze.

Slightly confused at the She-Elf's sudden silence from his announcement, Harry was about to glance behind him to make sure she was okay when something caught his gaze. Narrowing his eyes and forcing his eyes to focus in, his breath caught at the beauty before him. Deep and cradled within the hold of multiple mountains had to be the Elvin City of Rivendell. Open windows and stonework that blended into the mountainside with a river winding between its buildings and becoming a waterfall off the edge. The only thing connecting this hidden paradise to reality was a small bridge across a chasm.

From Frodo's gasp, Harry knew the Hobbit had caught sight of it as well, "Just like Uncle Bilbo described," the young Hobbit said, though he only seemed able to whisper.

Harry gave a trill of agreement as he began to fly closer and closer to the beautiful city, _Lady Arwen, where would be the best place to land?_

Shaking herself from her building dread, Arwen leaned forward to finally look down. After a few moments of searching she spoke, "Do you see the garden area, closest to the mountainside?" she asked, pointing to clarify.

Harry tucked his wings a bit and began to circle the city before he seemed to tighten his circling to one area, _Here?_

"Yes," Arwen nodded, leaning back to sit comfortably on Harry's back and wrapping her arms protectively around Frodo who had been leaning further and further sideways to see everything, "I will gladly give you a tour, Frodo, but you need to be in one piece for your friends' arrival and the tour," she said with a small smile.

Frodo flushed a bit, and gave the lady a sheepish smile before turning to the front again and sitting straight once more. Harry was descending and began noticing the figures that had steadily been entering the clearing – one seemed kingly, one sported familiar gray robes, but the majority were dressed with weapons.

 _My Lady, be ready to speak,_ Harry said as he continued to descend calmly, _It seems they are expecting a threat._

And Harry was right, because the moment he landed he had spears and arrows pointed at him. Instantly, Arwen jumped down and came to stand in front of him protectively while calling out in Elvish towards the kingly Elf Harry had spotted earlier.

 _"Peace, Father, it is friends I bring,"_ she said, arms out.

"Indeed it is friends, as I would recognize that mangy form anywhere," a familiar voice said, a rasping chuckle following.

In an instant, Harry returned to his form of a Man with Frodo still on his back though the Hobbit was blinking a bit at the sudden change, "Who you calling mangy, you old codger?" he said, eyes alight with amusement.

"Why I never," Gandalf said as he strode forward, beard twitching as he attempted to hide his amusement, "I see your manners are still absent, young Harry. I dearly hope you have not rubbed off on Frodo here."

Frodo's head popped up over Harry's shoulder as he blew the man's hair form his mouth, "He has manners, Gandalf – he just doesn't waste them on you."

The elder Istari spluttered in surprise while Harry leant over laughing while trying to keep Frodo on his back who was grinning quite smugly. A deeper laugh joined Harry's own, causing the Man to calm and look up to see the kingly Elf of before approaching with a smile and twinkle in his gaze.

"You must be Harry," the Elf said – there was a warmth and wisdom about him and the simple circlet of gold about his forehead gave Harry an idea as to his identity, "Gandalf speaks quite fondly of you and your Uncle."

Harry let Frodo slide from his back and smiled cheekily up at the Elf who – even with Harry's growth spurt up to a respectable 5'8" – towered over him, "I assure you, Lord Elrond, that all he has told you is vastly exaggerated."

The Elf raised an amused brow and gave a knowing smirk down to the Man, "Indeed?"

Harry smiled while batting his eyelashes in exaggerated innocence while Frodo covered his mouth in an attempt to smother his laughter. Elrond himself was hard pressed not to laugh as the guards around them lowered their weapons, smiling themselves at the young Man's humor. Gandalf was the one to break the amusing stand-off between Man and Elf, smile hidden in his beard.

"Where is Sam, Frodo? I do believe I asked him to travel with you," the Gray Istari said, looking about for the Hobbit's faithful friend and gardener.

"Threatened more I like," Harry snorted as he turned to Gandalf with his hands on his hips, "You told him you would turn him into a toad if he did not, you old goat!"

Gandalf drew back a bit and if you looked close enough you could see a bit of pink on his cheeks as he leaned on his staff, "Yes, well – I caught him listening in to a private conversation and -," he stopped when he saw Harry's unimpressed brow.

"So you threatened to turn him into a toad so he would do something he would have done freely?" Harry asked, tapping a foot while he stared the older Istari down disapprovingly.

To say Elrond was amused would be an understatement – he had not seen his friend act in such a manner since the last meeting of the light council when the Istari stumbled over himself in the presence of Galadriel. He quite liked this young Man already. All the other Elves watching on had a growing respect for the young Man who stood before such a powerful Istari without fear.

After stumbling over his words for a bit, Gandalf finally huffed, "What of Remus then? You rarely travel without him," he said, tilting his chin to mumble into his beard, "I would have preferred interacting with him – he is at least reasonable."

Harry heard him anyway and gave a laugh that sent chills down Gandalf's spine only, "Reasonable, is he? Just you wait until he gets here with Strider and the other three and we'll see which of us you prefer, Gandalf the Gray."

Gandalf swallowed heavily – perhaps he would not prefer Remus after all.

* * *

 _ **DeRanged: Well there it was people – the sixth chapter and their arrival in Rivendell. I have one question for the next update – and feel free to leave your answer in any review you may decide to bless me with – should I tell you about Strider, Remus, and co.'s arrival or should I skip ahead a bit? I may not do either, but those are my two avenues at this point, so unless one of the muses or plot bunnies decides to take a genius idea and smack me over the head with it – those are the options.**_

 _ **Thank you very much for reading and I hope you review!**_


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